My Dark Star
By Stacy Galore
Chapter 12: Choice, Not Fate (Part I)
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay in posting updates. Believe it or not, I have written up to chapter 15, but haven't posted due to lack of a beta. My beta has been swamped with paid freelance work and doesn't have time for little ol' me. This chapter was partially beta-ed. He sent it back to me suggesting that I make a major edit at the beginning of the chapter, but never got around to beta-ing the rewrite. So basically, I'm in need of a beta. I think it would be easier if one of my lovely readers could beta the rest of the story for me, since you have already read everything up to this point. Please let me know if you'd like to beta.
June arrived, sending everyone into a frenzy at Hogwarts with the term coming to a close. Students preoccupied themselves with exams and final projects. On top of the end-of-the-year workload, the Fifth-years and seventh-years panicked about O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s respectively. Mariana could hardly concentrate on anything, letting her schoolwork fall to the wayside in lieu of sitting alone by the lake with her legs in the water. She didn't even want to talk to Theo. She had come so far from that fifteen-year-old, insecure weakling to the confident, spirited young woman. It was nice while it lasted. Draco made sure to put Mariana firmly back in her place. Only now, his Slytherin gang tormented her on an entirely new level of cruelty. To them, not only was she a fat loser, she was also a slut to boot. So she isolated herself again, just praying for the year to end and hoped everyone would forget her by next year.
At least she had one thing to look forward to. Oliver was coming to town. She hardly felt worthy to be in his presence and was apprehensive about their reunion. Would he still be attracted to her? Would he still find her interesting? Or would he realize that the secret relationship with his coach's under-age daughter had lost its novelty now that she was a little older and not so innocent? She couldn't even bring herself to gloat about her date with the quidditch star in front of her classmates, which she used to do so unabashedly.
Mariana was distracted and distant for most of her day with Oliver. It had been months since they last saw each other and she should have had loads to talk to him about, but found that she couldn't tell him anything. Everything important that had happened involved Draco. She wasn't sure Oliver would understand nor appreciate why his girlfriend had been toying with such a foul creature. She didn't want to tell him that she'd been terribly depressed for over a month because of said foul creature. Luckily, Oliver did most of the talking, recounting his adventures around the world with Puddlemere United and replaying his victories with animated fervor. When they retired to the Hogshead Inn, they proceeded to catch up on months of lost physical contact. Mariana had no problem getting reacquainted with him in that aspect. To her relief, Oliver was more than happy to become reacquainted with her as thoroughly as possible, and made up for lost time with his athletic stamina.
Oliver rolled off of Mariana and laid on his back beside her, exhaling slowly in post-coitus bliss. He then turned on his side to look at her with eyes still misty from the rush of sexual release. She stared at the ceiling, feeling his intense gaze upon her, but didn't turn to face him.
"I love you," he whispered, still slightly breathless from their marathon lovemaking session.
Mariana sat up, refusing to return his gaze, and began searching the tangle of bed sheets for her clothes.
"What are you doing?" Oliver asked with a hint of hurt in his voice.
She answered coldly, "I need to get back to the castle. Its getting late, and I have exams to study for," as she slipped on her underwear hurriedly.
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of Mariana's neck as she pulled a black, knee-high stocking over her leg. "Please stay a while. I really meant what I said." He kissed her neck gently, and she had to internally fight falling prey to the exploitation of her weak-spot.
Mariana's eyes searched the floor for the other stocking as she replied quietly and emotionlessly, without a hint of shocked disbelief or mockery, "No, you don't."
Oliver brushed her cheek with his hand, inviting her to turn around. "Look at me, Mariana." She stubbornly continued to dress herself without glimpsing at him. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you."
Mariana sighed heavily with annoyance, turned to face him, and shot him a look of mild distaste. "How can you love me? You barely know me."
Oliver's eyes fixed upon hers, looking so innocent and raw with emotion. "I know you enough to realize that I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you better." This confession was unsettling for her. She felt awkward and looked away. She pivoted off the bed and resumed dressing in the tense silence. Oliver got up and walked over to the side where Mariana was standing, her eyes rooted to the floor as she put on her school robes. He stood before her, grasped her left hand gently and raised it to his lips for a delicate kiss. The magnetism of his deep, blue eyes pulled her despondent stare to meet his. Oliver was so vulnerable in this moment – he was completely nude and she was fully dressed, holding all the cards. His soul lay bare before her, as naked as his chiseled body. "I know this is a bit reckless and presumptuous of me. But I'm willing to take a chance. Please tell me you are too." All she could feel was dull pity as he slipped a diamond ring on her finger.
Mariana pulled away and walked to the window, which was open to the warm June night. She gazed up at the sky, which was mostly clear, save for some dark clouds approaching in the distant horizon. She glanced down at the ring. It was elegant in its simplicity – a square cut stone set in a polished platinum band. The diamond caught the moonlight and sparkled like a thousand stars burning through an approaching, silver dawn. "This is insane," she declared desolately, still looking out the window. "I mean, we hadn't even seen each other in months."
"I know it seems crazy, but all that time spent apart made me realize that I love you." Oliver came from behind and slipped his arms around her waist.
"Oliver, this is just madness," Mariana's tone began to sound irate. "You could hardly call what we had this summer a real relationship. How can you possibly be in love with me?"
"I'm not in love with you. I love you." He spoke decisively and his voice became more insistent.
Mariana whipped around with a look of incredulity and corrected him. "Lust, Oliver. You are 'in lust' with me."
"That's what I thought at first, but I've been with other girls since then, and it just isn't the same." Mariana felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of him sleeping around, even though she hadn't been faithful either. "Nobody makes me feel like you do."
"That's the sex talking," she said coolly.
Oliver spoke with wounded disbelief. "You can't possibly tell me this is only about sex." He grabbed her hand, this time with more force, and put it over his bare chest. "You can't tell me you didn't feel anything between us other than shallow desire."
Mariana answered emotionlessly with an equally soulless stare, "Yes, I can," and wrenched her hand out of his desperate grasp.
Oliver's tone turned somewhat irate, although not spiteful. "I may be young, but I can recognize love, even when it doesn't so much slap me in the face as just lightly graze my cheek. And I have lived enough to know that by ignoring it, you could be squandering the only chance you'll ever have at it." His voice softened slightly, but still remained resolute. "Mariana, you have nothing to lose by taking a chance. If it doesn't work out, you'll come out of it OK, albeit a little worse for wear from all the fantastic sex, and with a decent alimony settlement." His attempt at quelling the tension with cheeky humor failed.
"Nothing to lose? I have everything to lose! I can't do this, Oliver!" she exploded.
Oliver sighed and tried gently reasoning with her. "I know you're apprehensive, Mariana. I've had my heart broken before and I know what it's like. But it is nothing compared to the pain of regret for not even trying."
"Pain?" she gasped, before going on a tirade. "Oliver, you couldn't possibly know the depths of pain one can sink down to if you've been able to emerge with your soul intact. You've never been so foolish enough to love and been so brutally rejected that you can't allow anybody to get close to you. You're damn right I'm apprehensive. You have no idea what I've been through."
She fell into her memories that had been reawakened from the ache in her heart. It was almost six years ago, but it felt like it happened in another lifetime. Mariana felt like a completely different person now from the eleven-year-old girl who allowed her self to love and recklessly profess that love in a childish note scrawled on pink paper. At such a young age, love was merely an innocent crush. She was foolish enough to hope that her admiration would be returned. Instead, cold, grey eyes mocked her incessantly. It didn't matter that the boy would never remotely love her, the fact that he truly despised her made her want him even more. She craved his attention, even if he gave it to her only to berate her. Year after year, his contempt fed her attraction, letting it fester into a sickening obsession. It was a desire that border-lined hate. It was a desire that owned her soul.
Mariana was on the verge of angry tears and could feel her blood begin to simmer. It wasn't Oliver who stirred these emotions now. Her countenance betrayed her straying thoughts.
"There's somebody else then." Oliver proposed, though not with jealousy or anger.
Mariana snapped back into the present moment. "No, there isn't anybody else. But that would be convenient, wouldn't it?" she asked sarcastically. "You can leave with your heart intact and your ego slightly bruised knowing that it wasn't you, it was somebody else."
Oliver recovered, "No, Mariana, it's not like that. I can't change the way I feel about you, regardless of your feelings for me. I still love you and will probably continue to do so for quite some time. I just wanted to know if there was any . . . hope for you."
"Hope?" she asked, highly offended.
The young man nodded with deepest affection. "Yes, hope. Hope that you'll feel love someday as certain and pure as my love for you."
Mariana's anger melted from the weight of his words. How very Griffindor of him, she scoffed to herself. She envied Oliver so much. She envied his fearlessness, allowing his heart to be splayed open before her like an offering on the altar of Venus. She envied his naïve optimism. She wished she could walk away from rejection with such grace and humility.
At the very least, she should have been flattered by his proposal. It should have boosted her self-esteem and given her the confidence to go on with life as the steely slayer of men's hearts. But it didn't. It left her feeling ironically lonely. She took the ring off her finger and placed it in Oliver's palm, cupping it with her own.
"I should go," Mariana whispered with forlorn eyes.
"At least let me take you back to the castle," he offered.
She replied, still with sadness, "No, its OK. I have my apparation license now. I'll be alright."
"Please," Oliver humbly pleaded with the glimmer of crystalline tears shining in his blue eyes like ripples on the Pacific Ocean. His voice never faltered through the sorrow. "I don't think I can bear it if you walk away from me. Just grant me this one favor and let me walk away."
Mariana wanted to just leave Oliver before she changed her mind, but something in his despondent face made her feel sympathetic. On second thought, it wasn't sympathy, but rather empathy. She felt guilty that she had led him into that downward spiral of despair borne of unrequited love which she was all too familiar with. After he dressed, she let him embrace her silently as they stood by the open window. For a fleeting moment, she imagined what it would be like if she accepted Oliver's proposal. She would be his beautiful trophy wife, a celebrity by association, living in a well manicured home, in the safety of his loving arms. And she knew that could never be her life, no matter how hard they tried to construct it that way. Mariana simply wasn't one to settle for security. She aspired to be something more important than a quidditch star's wife, though she wasn't sure what exactly.
The couple-that-was-not-to-be held each other as they disapparated from the inn at Hogsmeade, and arrived at the gates of Hogwarts with a loud crack. They found themselves under the canopy of a young willow tree to the right of the large iron double doors. Behind the gate, the darkened castle rose from a rocky hill beyond the expansive grounds. The intricately curving metal bars of the door creaked noisily as they bent into the shape of a mouth. From the mouth emanated a deep, gruff voice that broke their embrace.
"Who goes there? What brings you to Hogwarts at such a late hour?" asked the gate suspiciously.
Mariana walked a few steps to the mouth of the door and brandished a piece of parchment. "I have a pass from the Headmaster. I'm returning from Hogsmeade." The two knobs of the double doors metamorphosed into goggling eyes and perused the parchment. When it was satisfied, the gate creaked open only wide enough for one person to fit through. Mariana turned to Oliver. "This is where you leave me now," she said soberly.
Oliver exhaled deeply with his eyes closed and gave one last ditch effort. "Are you sure you don't want to sleep on it and owl me in the morning?" he asked.
"I'm sure," she said sadly.
Oliver seemed to want to draw out this moment, unwilling to let go. "We don't have to get married. Let's just continue to see each other. We don't even have to be exclusive if you don't want to be."
Mariana sighed, "I can't see you anymore, Oliver."
"What about being friends with benefits?" he joked with a handsome smile that melted her despondency.
She gave a half-hearted giggle. "OK. I'll owl you if I fancy a shag," she joked back and put her arms around his waist in a last embrace, sealed with a final passionate kiss.
The gate cleared its rusty throat impatiently.
"Give us a minute, would you? It's not like you have anything else to do," snorted Mariana. The gate huffed and clanged shut.
She leaned in to continue their prolonged parting snog, but felt a phantom wind chill her deeply to the soul. She looked up and saw the Dementors who guarded the gates of Hogwarts circling in the upper stratosphere.
"Hey! Call them off. I have written permission to be outside the gates," Mariana demanded irately.
The gates retorted, "Its not you they're after. There is somebody else who does not have the authority to pass through the gates of Hogwarts."
Oliver frowned in an endearing, boyish way. "That would be me. I'd better go then." He gave Mariana a peck on the lips, and with a swish of his wand he was gone.
Mariana lingered for a moment to collect her self. She felt the sharpness of regret starting to form in the pit of her stomach, though it was still just a dull poke. Or was that just the Dementors affecting her?
"Shit! Fuck! Damn it!" came a familiar spiteful voice from the other side of the willow tree. She crept towards the voice gingerly, peering around the tree trunk. Draco was hanging precariously from the outside of the gate, which had grown about ten feet higher in an attempt to keep him from scaling it. The metal bars had coiled themselves around his fist, which was clenched around his wand, and dangled him in the air. He was fruitlessly trying to charm and jinx the bars to release him, but couldn't properly flick his wand to do so. The Dementors began to descend in their direction.
Mariana came out from behind the willow and asked smugly, "Sneaking back into the school after a night of debauchery with your Death Eater friends?"
Draco was startled and looked down to find the smug voice. Mariana expected him to sneer and spit a snarky comeback at her. But the boy looked frightened, his pale face flushed with panic. He was breathing rapidly and his brow glistened with sweat. "Where the hell did you come from?"
She stood beneath him, reveling in his misfortune. "I have a pass to get in. You don't have to jump the fence."
"I don't want to get in, I want to get out!" he said through gritted teeth as he tried to pull himself up to grab the wand out of his ensnared hand. He wasn't strong enough to bear the weight of his entire body with one arm. The metal dug into his skin and clasped so tightly around his fingers that he could not open his fist to release his wand. Mariana had never seen such terror in Draco's countenance before. The moonlight reflected in his grey eyes, making them shine silver with desperate fear. She became entranced by a swirling cloud of black cloaks and an utter despair began to overtake her soul. The Dementors were getting very close.
Draco's wand was already pointing up at the sky. Urgently he shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" and a silver mist shot out of his wand, gathering into the semblance of a winged reptile, then dissipated. He tried frantically to cast a patronus to ward off the approaching Dementors, but could not manage the difficult spell in his panicked state.
His horror-stricken cries awoke Mariana from the fog of misery. Without gathering the proper sentiment to propel the spell, she incanted, "Expecto Patronum!" with even less results than Draco's attempts. She gathered her reserve and concentrated. She closed her eyes and searched for a strong emotion within her memories. Nothing. The Dementor's were merely twenty feet above. Deeper she dove into the locked recesses of her heart, trying to find something . . . anything . . . Oliver. Still nothing. Draco appeared to pass out, dangling limply from the gate. Deeper still, she plunged inward into her soul until she found an emotion so powerful, it filled her chest with heat and set fire to her dark eyes. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" a fountain of silver burst from her wand and gathered to form a furious winged dragon that chased the Dementors away. The emotional strain brought her to her knees, panting and perspiring. With the sky now clear, she saw the Dark Mark looming over the castle and instinctively felt a twinge of fear. Death Eaters had killed at Hogwarts tonight.
"Impressive," came a voice devoid of any feelings from behind her. Mariana turned around to find Professor Snape gazing coldly at her from above. He appeared uncharacteristically disheveled and his skin looked a ghastly shade of grey-green, as if he were about to vomit. He addressed the boy dangling above, who had come to. "You've wasted precious time hanging around, Draco. We must depart immediately." Snape flicked his wand and the boy came crashing down to the ground in a twisted heap with a horrible thud and a painful yelp.
"My arm! You've bloody broken it!" he screamed in agony. Both Mariana and the professor darted to his side. The girl fumbled with Draco's robes to access his injured limb.
Professor Snape said impatiently, "Miss Pagan, you've helped enough with the Dementors. We really have no time - "
Mariana cut him off, determinedly "I can fix him. You know I can, professor. You've seen it yourself."
"Go back to the castle, Miss Pagan. That's not a suggestion, that's an order," he insisted. Mariana shoved her hand into Draco's shirt and grabbed his bare arm, soliciting a painful gasp. "Let go of him. We need to disapparate. Now!" Snape's voice became impatient.
She glared at him defiantly and snarled, "You have no authority over me. We're off school grounds and I'm legally an adult. I can do whatever I wish."
"Pagan, you have no idea what you are jeopardizing with your insubordination. Leave us!" Snape demanded.
"Whatever you say, sir," she said without any hint of respect in her voice, as she released her grip on Draco and turned away. Snape raised his wand and Mariana seized Draco's hand, just as they were about to exit by side-along apparation. The three of them disappeared with a loud pop and reappeared in the doorway of an opulent manor house, somewhere in the South of England. On the large wooden door was a decorative gold knocker in the shape of an M.
Professor Snape snatched Mariana by the wrist, which was still holding Draco's hand. Draco squealed in pain, and she let go. Snape squeezed Mariana's arm hard to convey his seriousness. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you've made a huge mistake by coming here. Get away from here now. I don't care where you go, just GO! Before its too late."
Mariana honestly didn't know why she did it. It was reckless and perhaps stupid, but something made her want to follow the two fugitives. She had a feeling she knew where they were going, or rather, to whom they were going to see. It was like fate calling her to her destiny.
Before the girl could say anything, the door opened, seemingly by its own volition. Upon further inspection downward, she saw a cowering house elf. "Master Draco! You've arrived!" she exclaimed with excitement and relief. "My mistress has been so worried. She has been crying and throwing things at Tink. And Tink has been trying hard to catch the things so they won't break. Tink is so glad you're home!"
Draco kicked the elf aside and entered, followed by Snape. Mariana jumped inside before the professor could close the door on her, which was his intention.
"Draco!" screamed a visibly distraught blonde woman at the top of a marble staircase. She disapparated and reappeared before them. "Oh, my darling boy!" she cried melodramatically and practically tackled him with her embrace, which caused Draco to let out a blood curdling scream of pain. The woman, who was clearly already on edge, shrieked just as loud. "Draco! You're hurt!" Her shattered nerves did not help the situation. "Severus, do something!" She lunged at Professor Snape and pleaded as the tears continued to stream down her pained, pale face.
Mariana stepped in and offered, "Allow me."
The woman flung herself between Mariana and Draco and stared down her aquiline nose at the girl. "Don't touch my son. Who are you?"
"I can fix his arm right now, or he can continue to endure the pain while you wait for medical attention," Mariana said confidently.
"Who are you?" the woman repeated suspiciously.
"She's your son's girlfriend, Narcissa, and she's a gifted healer," Snape answered for her. He then rounded on the girl and commanded, "You may fix the boy's arm. I can't deal with all the infernal screaming. But you will leave immediately afterwards."
Narcissa looked hopeful and wiped her wet face with a lace handkerchief. "What? Girlfriend? Healer?" she asked between sniffles.
"Lady Malfoy, Mariana Pagan at your service," she curtsied to the woman in the manner she was taught to address witches of affluence and high esteem.
Narcissa smiled, vacillating towards the other end of her manic mood swing. "How charming. Draco, you never told me you had a girlfr - "
Before she could finish the sentence and allow Draco to answer, Mariana cut in and yanked up the boy's sleeve a little too forcefully, causing him to yelp. She placed her hand on his arm as he continued to cry out in agony along with his hysterical mother. Soon, the pain stopped, as evident by the cessation of Draco's screams. As everyone stood silent with anticipation, the broken bone set itself right.
Another woman stormed into the room. She had the same pointy nose and haughty face as Narcissa, but her hair was wild and dark. "Ah, the boy has returned! Did you do it Draco?" she asked excitedly.
Draco still appeared shaken and could not speak.
Snape answered without emotion, "The task is complete."
"You see, Cissy, I told you he could do it. And at last, Dumbledore is dead!" the woman cackled maniacally.
Mariana turned to the boy and looked at him in shocked disbelief. Draco killed Dumbledore!? She could not fathom it for several reasons. Firstly, the Head Master was practically invincible. Even the Dark Lord feared him. Secondly, Draco was just an obnoxious bully. He couldn't possibly be capable of killing anyone, let alone one of the greatest wizards who ever lived. Mariana's whole worldview flipped upside down as she began to doubt everything she knew of the boy and of her professor. She almost felt hurt that the world had deceived her so cruelly.
"We must summon the Dark Lord and tell him the good news." The black-haired woman rolled up her left sleeve exposing the Dark Mark on her arm and was about to put her finger on it when she caught sight of Mariana. The professor was escorting her out the door forcefully. "Who in Merlin's name is that?"
"She's nobody, and she's leaving," said Snape.
"Whoever she is, she knows too much. Kill her, Severus," said the woman as if ordering him to squash a pesky bug.
"No, Bella, this is Draco's girlfriend," explained the delusional Narcissa, who had warmed to Mariana after she healed her son.
"I don't care. She's not one of us. If you don't kill her, I will," she said as she walked towards Mariana with her wand drawn. Mariana quickly drew her own wand and brandished it defensively. "Feisty little one. I see why you fancy her, Draco."
Draco was still frozen from the trauma of the evening's events and continued to stare blankly as if closing himself down to the rest of the world. He never bothered to refute that Mariana was his girlfriend, nor did he flinch at the idea of her being murdered in front of him.
Professor Snape wedged himself between Mariana and the murderous woman and said, "Calm down, Bellatrix."
The notorious Bellatrix Lestrange, thought Mariana. She knew she had escaped Azkaban not so long ago. What was she doing at the Malfoy estate? Was she a relative? Perhaps Draco's aunt? She did look a bit like Draco's mother, if one saw passed the ravages of prison. Both women seemed to share a tendency towards mental instability. Mariana stood her ground through the silent tension. Her dark, sparkling eyes met another pair of eyes that were equally dark, but quite dull from years under the oppressive drain of Dementors.
"Alright." Bellatrix lowered her wand but continued to sneer at Mariana. "We'll let our master deal with her," she said as she pressed a finger against her Dark Mark.
Mariana's heart could have jumped out of her chest just then. Lord Voldemort was coming. She was actually going to meet the infamous You-Know-Who. It was absolutely surreal. She was almost excited, as if she were about to meet a celebrity. However, excitement immediately turned to fear. He would probably kill her. Mariana felt the hot rush of adrenaline surge through her body. Her muscles tensed with panic; her fist clenched tightly around her wand. There was no time to act, for a loud crack announced the Dark Lord's arrival. Everybody in the room fell to the floor on one knee with their heads bowed, so she followed suit.
"You may rise, my trusted servants," issued a voice that echoed in the room with a commanding power. Mariana was surprised at how human he sounded and even more shocked at how inhuman he looked. Firstly, he was impossibly tall for a man. The skin of his face was grey and taut, like a canvas stretched over his skull, rendering his features almost emotionless. He lacked a proper nose and hair, making him appear alien. He was draped in heavy, black robes that seemed to swirl about him on their own volition. She grew up thinking of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as an amorphous being, as a mere idea. For most of her life, he had been a wizard of legend and mystery, not a real person. The stories she'd heard had intrigued her. She was awed at how one person could strike so much fear in people that they could not utter his name. She was amazed at how his ideas could move others to do anything for his cause, even kill. When he was in power, he changed the wizarding world, empowering others to rise up against muggle oppression. Upon his recent return, he was poised to shift the paradigm again so that wizards would not have to live hidden from the non-magical world. When Lord Voldemort's crimson reptilian eyes met hers, she did not feel the terror she had expected. Rather, she felt a deep reverence and was humbled by his compelling aura.
The Dark Lord turned to Draco and spoke with a calm yet imposing voice. "I assume I am being summoned here because you have successfully killed Dumbledore."
The boy could not meet his gaze and he trembled slightly, unable to speak. Sweat glistened on his brow, dampening the fringe of his hair, making him look like a sick, wet, puppy. Draco suddenly pressed his fingers to his temples as pain furrowed his facial features. The Dark Lord was delving directly into the boy's mind.
"Your thoughts betray your failure. I am disappointed," said the Dark Lord softly through sharp teeth as he approached Draco with his wand raised. The sleeve of Lord Voldemort's robes slid down revealing long, bony fingers.
Draco was now visibly shaking in fear and cowered beside his mother who embraced him protectively. She pleaded, "Please, my lord! He's just a boy!"
Professor Snape came to Draco's defense. "And as would be expected of a boy, he hesitated in his task. I had to step in before he got himself killed."
Lord Voldemort flashed his pointed teeth in an eerie grin and lowered his wand. "I can always count on you to get the job done, Severus. You will be rewarded for your efforts." Snape simply nodded.
Bellatrix jumped in suspiciously, "Were there witnesses? How do we know you really killed him?"
The professor replied self-importantly, "Ask the others. They were there, whereas you were not, Bellatrix." She crossed her arms and shot a scornful look at Snape.
"Besides the others, was anybody else present for this joyous event?" asked The Dark Lord.
"Perhaps the Potter boy. But I can't be sure." said Snape.
Bellatrix laughed maniacally. "I would have paid a thousand galleons to see the look on Potter's face when his beloved headmaster was murdered."
Lord Voldemort echoed her sentiments with a grumbling snigger but then turned sour again as he asked, "You had Potter in your grasp, yet none of you thought to apprehend him?" Bellatrix rallied behind him.
Snape's confidence did not falter as he explained, "Our main objective had been achieved. We had no time to linger, for The Order had arrived. If one of us had been captured, all would be for naught. I know from my infiltration into The Order that there is a very skilled legilimens among them. All our secret plans would be in the hands of the enemy."
Lord Voldemort weighed Snape's explanations for a moment and then gave him the benefit of the doubt to Bellatrix's dismay. "I suppose you have a point there, Severus. We wouldn't want a repeat of the Department of Mysteries fiasco, now would we?" He looked to the Malfoys who shied away from his reprimanding stare and appeared shameful for Lucius's failures. He focused his attention onto Draco. "Now young Malfoy, your merits have not gone unnoticed. I understand you hatched a brilliant plan to breech Hogwarts security."
Draco calmed a fraction, but remained stiff with terror as he recounted his deeds. He spoke with an uncharacteristic staccato as he forced out the words through chattering teeth. "Yes, my lord. I used a pair of cabinets. Vanishing cabinets. As a passageway. Between The Room of Requirement and Borgin's shop. The shop in Knockturn Alley."
"How clever of you. If only your father were as cunning. If you continue to prove your loyalty to me, you will earn his way out of Azkaban," said the Dark Lord.
Narcissa rushed to Lord Voldemort's feet and groveled, "Thank you, my lord. You are most gracious and merciful." He looked disgusted with her obscene show of gratitude. Draco did not dare go near the man and continued to bow his head submissively.
Bellatrix yanked Narcissa away and apologized on her behalf. "Forgive my sister, Master. She has a tendency to overreact," a tendency the two sisters shared, apparently.
The dark wizard's attention moved from the two women to Mariana. While he looked upon her with vague curiosity he asked, "Bella, who is this girl?"
"I don't really know, my lord. Maybe she's a spy. Shall we kill her?" said Bellatrix excitedly as if asking her father if she could keep a stray kitten.
Mariana was wise enough to know that she did not have the right to address Lord Voldemort directly, and instead spoke through Bellatrix. "I am here to offer my services to your master," she said.
Bellatrix laughed, "The Dark Lord has no use for little girls."
Mariana determinately walked up behind the unsuspecting Draco, reached her arm around his neck, and sliced open his jugular vein with her wand and a nasty cutting spell. Draco's eyes widened in shock as he clutched at his throat while the blood spurted out from between his fingers. Narcissa launched into another hysterical screaming fit and flung herself at Mariana, foregoing magic altogether. Professor Snape held Draco's mother back, causing Bellatrix to lash out in her sister's defense with wand drawn. Hexes and deflecting charms began to fly, hurting the expensive décor rather than those involved in the duel. Lord Voldemort smiled at the melee with mild amusement. Mariana struggled with the writhing boy and managed to wrench Draco's hand away in order to replace it with her own. His hand clasped over hers instinctively, still horror stricken from her sudden and violent attack.
As she concentrated on stopping the blood Mariana explained, "I'm a healer. And I'm willing to serve the Dark Lord if he will have me." Lord Voldemort watched with interest as the blood ceased pouring out of the gash. She looked up at him with confidence and said, "I can do all this without a wand, without potions, and without spells. I can do this with just the touch of my hands." She closed her eyes and continued to concentrate on healing it completely.
"Bella, Severus, Narcissa. Stop playing with each other and come watch this," The Dark Lord said as if herding in a group of children.
When Mariana was done, she wiped the blood away with her own robes and then took an exhausted step back. Narcissa rushed to her son's side to ensure Mariana had done a thorough job and used the scourgify spell to clean up the bloody mess.
Lord Voldemort remarked, "Fascinating. I thought your kind died out generations ago."
"The Dark Lord doesn't need your silly parlor tricks," said Bellatrix with a hint of jealousy.
Mariana proposed, "I understand that we are on the verge of war. I'm sure the Dark Lord could figure out a way to make my power useful against his enemies."
"Perhaps," pondered Lord Voldemort and addressed the girl directly, enchanting her with his snake-like stare, "What is your name?"
Mariana dropped in a low curtsey and bowed her head. "Mariana, my lord. Mariana Pagan."
"Come with me, my child. I may just have a use for you yet," he said as he walked towards the drawing room beyond the foyer and bade her to follow. Bellatrix swiftly trailed them, but he closed the door and commanded that he not be disturbed.
