"Dear Marina,

I hope you're having a great Christmas and aren't in too much trouble about the lying thing.

So far, it's been the greatest holiday in my life – I got presents in loads! Even Ron's mum sent me one. And someone sent me a package anonymously... it's something that used to belong to my dad. I'll show you when you're back.

And then of course there was your present: thank you so much. The twins might have mentioned just how hard the Duplication Charm is on magical objects – like your mum's journal. It's kind of weird but I love reading about mum...

Anyway, I'll see you after the holidays.

Cheers,

Harry"

Marina smiled to herself. She'd copied her mum's first journal and sent it to him for Christmas. It was a good thing he liked it because something told her Dora's cookies were probably a disaster. It had taken her another week after Harry's first Quidditch match – which he'd won splendidly – to work up the nerve to tell him about the journals in detail. Her mum hadn't just written in them; she'd used them kind of like a pensieve. It was one hell of a charm but she'd managed to imbue her journals with the corresponding memories of what she'd written down. Not all of them, mind you, but enough. Unfortunately, copying those memories was definitely above her skill level so Harry couldn't watch them like she had. But he'd get some information on Lily at least. It wasn't until the next journal, which she hadn't copied yet, her mum had started writing about James and his friends.

"I'm impressed," Ted said as he read over her shoulder. "I didn't think you'd share them."

"If anyone deserves it, it's Harry," she sighed. "He didn't even know he looks like them. Or that Lily was he smartest witch of their generation and James the Seeker for Gryffindor."

Dromeda was pacing around the kitchen, waving her wand and making the appliances spring to life in order to cook dinner. She wasn't talking to Marina as of yet. Normally, it would have her worried and grovelling, but she figured her cousin was just gearing up for the explosion. It wasn't like she didn't sense their collective disappointment. Ted had a shadow in his eyes that hadn't been there before. It was the exact reason she'd lied in the first place; they'd worry themselves into early graves.

"At least he's keeping out of trouble."

Marina bit her tongue at that nonsense. She knew that Harry was trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel was. The name rang a bell but she couldn't place it. But whoever he was, one of his possessions was being hidden in Hogwarts; and guarded by the three-headed oversized canine Hagrid had named Fluffy of all things.

Of course, Harry confiding in her put her in a bit of an awkward position: on the one hand she wanted him to trust her, which meant keeping his secrets. On the other hand, what he was doing was clearly dangerous and the somewhat responsible girl Dromeda had raised wanted to tell the Headmaster.

Well, the Notts were coming for dinner and David had promised to teach her that Disillusionment Charm. It turned you into a human, magical chameleon, basically making you invisible, but it was a O.W.L.-level charm. She was one of the best in her year but she wasn't that good... yet.

Christmas Eve, Tonks House

Everybody was stuffed from the giant roast Dromeda had cooked and sitting around the living room. As the adults, already tipsy from eggnog, were singing "Oh rest, ye merry magic folks", Marina was in a corner with her best friend and David.

"You didn't have to," he said quietly, as to not draw his sister's attention who was very engrossed in one of the muggle books Marina had got her for Christmas. David was referring to his own gift: a pocket sneakoscope. Mad-Eye had told her often enough that every auror should have one of the early-warning devices, and David was every bit as frugal as Carmen. He never bought anything he did not absolutely need, so she'd figured he didn't have one yet.

"Your mentor would disagree," she mumbled back. She was glad the grouch had taken David, his best friend Elias and Dora under his cloak. But she highly suspected he'd done it because they were her friends; sort of. She'd never gotten to the bottom of why he was feeling so guilty.

"With all the advanced spells you're teaching me, consider it your tutelage payment," she grinned. His lips twitched. Marina sometimes wondered where he'd got his looks from. Bianca was an older version of Carmen with gray eyes instead of blue. Ty's hair was lighter but he had gray eyes too.

David didn't really fit into the family picture, what with his light ash brown hair and jungle green eyes. He must have got it from a grandparent or something.

"Besides, you're one to talk," she added and held up Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms – his present to her. It was an advanced level rune book and probably had cost him a small fortune.

"You want to get started tomorrow?" he asked with a look to the adults. Or the other adults, really. She kept forgetting he was so much older – then again the dragon hide boots and the necklace with hippogriff talons on it made him look anything but serious. He'd spent way too much time with Charlie Weasley, an old school friend of his, this summer. The other man was in Romania, working with dragons. Merlin, she felt way too young.

"Yes, if I can get Dromeda to let me out of my room," she grumbled. Her cousin had, as expected, cracked and berated Marina for the lying and secret keeping. Aside from the planned dinners, two more to go, and carolling at the orphanage, Marina was grounded.

"You really should have told them," David said, frowning.

"Not you too," she groaned. "I have nightmares. What's the big deal?"

"She's just worried, you know."

"Nothing short of a Memory Spell is going to make it stop. And I'm not having anyone mess around in my head. Ever."

There were way too many of her parents' secrets in there. Marina had already sorted through the journals and decided which ones of them she'd not give Harry. There were just some things, like their fathers' rule breaking, that he didn't need to know.

December 26th 1991

Marina was practising the Disillusionment Charm on some weeds in the backyard when Hedwig arrived. The snow owl let out a tired hoot.

"Thanks, Hedwig. Here."

Marina pointed and transformed a leaf into a water bowl. Technically, she wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school – but Mad-Eye had managed an exception for her because he insisted she practice all the extra spells he taught her.

Hedwig shot her a look that couldn't be seen as anything but appreciative. That owl was much too intelligent. Marina ripped open the letter.

"Marina,

you won't believe it! I was out Christmas Night and found a mirror. Granted, I was hiding from Snape but still. And whenever I look into it, I see Mum and Dad!

You have to come see when you're back.

See you soon,

Harry"

Uh-oh. That couldn't be good. Sneaking around the castle at night was bad enough if you only did it once. But somehow Maria couldn't imagine Harry would stay away from that mirror if he got to see Lily and James. She knew she wouldn't.

Early January, 1992

Harry was a distracted mess. Considering Snape would referee at the next Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, that was a very bad thing. Marina knew the reason of course.

None other than Albus Dumbledore had caught Harry at that mirror he'd written her about. The headmaster had not punished harry for the late-night strolls but had moved the Mirror of Erised to another location.

The damn thing showed a person their heart's deepest desire, so naturally Harry had seen the parents he'd never known. Marina rather suspected she would have seen the same. Or maybe she'd see herself with someone who would finally tell her what had happened to her father...

June 1992

Marina and Carmen were sitting outside and enjoying their last day in Hogwarts this year. She didn't know whether to be sad or relieved. Harry had gotten over the his experience with the Mirror of Erised amazingly well. Seeing James and Lily, even if it was only an illusion, had triggered something in him.

Naturally, him and his two best friends were still worried about the Philosopher's Stone, but Hagrid and McGonagall had told them in no uncertain terms that it was safe. But considering the wraith that had tried to kill Harry in the Forbidden Forest, during his detention, Marina was inclined to agree with Harry. That abomination, which had been drinking unicorn blood, was Voldemort. He was obviously still weak, otherwise Harry would most likely be dead. Killing a unicorn was a sin beyond comprehension, drinking its blood cursed you for all eternity. Voldemort was becoming desperate to regain his strength. What better way to do that than to get his hands on an artefact that bestowed immortality?

"Sometimes I don't get you," Carmen announced, looking up from her copy of Witch Weekly. "The exams are over and you aced all of them – no matter what Snape said. Yet here you are, brooding."

"Worrying," Marina clarified with a sigh. "Harry's right, you know. That stone isn't safe here. Not with Voldemort out there."

"Yes, it is. We have Dumbledore protecting it."

"Yeah," Marina drawled. "Because that did Harry so much good in the forest. What the bloody hell is Dumbledore thinking, anyway, keeping the stone here?"

Carmen, finally catching on to just how on edge Marina really was, sat up straighter and looked at her sharply.

"Your Inner Eye?"

"Something like that," Marina mumbled, rubbing her temples. "That's the problem of being a weak Seer. But I have a really bad feeling."

"You read the cards?" Carmen asked, concerned.

"Yes. And don't ask. All very depressing and not very reassuring." According to her tarot set, Harry would be facing his personal devil, aka Voldemort, soon. There were only very few wizards and witches that truly believed in Divination, and none of them at Hogwarts, so she hadn't bothered telling anyone about it. She'd just be brushed up as a panicking thirteen year-old anyway. But something was wrong and she dreaded the moment she'd be proven right.

Unfortunately, she didn't have to wait long. She climbed through the hole behind the Fat Lady into the common room – and almost stumbled over Neville Longbottom. His eyes were moving rapidly but he looked almost frozen.

"Who the hell put a full-body-lock on you here?" she asked, waving her wand once to reverse the jinx. She knew that Draco had jinxed Neville numerous times, but what Gryffindor would-?

"Hermione," Neville grumbled, clearly shaken that a friend would do that to him.

"Why?" Marina asked carefully, her insides churning. Her bad feeling was back tenfold.

"She, Harry and Ron were sneaking out again!" Neville complained, mutinous. "They're going to cost us even more points! So I... I tried to stop them."

She was torn between commending him for the effort and asking him if he'd lost his mind. Neville, for all that he was a nice kid, lacked magical prowess. There was no way he'd stand a chance against either one of those three.

"Harry was holding some sort of fabric-," Neville went on, clearly glad he could hand it all over to an older student, "- and the flute Hagrid gave him for Christmas."

If they'd taken James' invisibility cloak, that was not good. And hadn't Hagrid mentioned, drunk she might add, that all you needed to get past the three-headed monstrosity, Fluffy, was music?

"Dear Merlin," Marina groaned, reaching the inevitable conclusion that those three morons had gone up to the third floor to, presumably, stop Voldemort from stealing the stone.

There was no time whatsoever to tell McGonagall, and Dumbledore was in London – which was probably why they'd gone up there in the first place, come to think of it. With the headmaster gone, it was the perfect opportunity.

"Neville, you stay here," she ordered the boy sternly.

"But Gryffindor-"

"The House Cup will be the least of our problems if what they're so worried about proves true," she told him grimly. "You stay in here. I'll go after them."

Before he could protest, she turned on her heels and walked back out, ignoring the Fat Lady's indignant complaint. Once out of sight, she cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself, mentally making a note to get something extra special for David's birthday this year, and took of running.

Her heart sank when she saw the door wide open. Fluffy, she scoffed, was not amused. The trap door beneath him was torn off its hinges. Someone had gone down there already.

Marina hesitated. The sensible thing to do would be to turn around and get McGonagall to listen and help her. But every fibre of her being told her that she didn't have time for that. Harry needed help now. So, against her better judgement, she pointed her wand at the harp in the corner, spelling it to play on its own. The oversized canine took two minutes to fall asleep. Then she jumped down the trapdoor.

And landed on a plant. It was a Devil's Snare. Immediately, she was reminded why she hated Herbology – half the time the weed tried to kill you. Thankfully, as much as she did not appreciate the subject, she was still fairly good at it. Devil's Snares hated warmth and heat. So she raised her wand and yelled "Incendio!". It was a much more powerful fire-charm than the one Hermione had used to set Snape on fire a few months ago. The Snare retreated with a lot of noise – how exactly a plant could make noise was still beyond her.

Marina subsequently tumbled down, through the remaining plant, and found herself on the ground, facing a door.

"Okay, that was Sprout," she mumbled to herself. Hagrid had told the others, which he really shouldn't have done, what teachers had helped protect the stone. Flitwick, Sprout, Snape, Quirrell, McGonagall and of course Dumbledore himself. Then again, if the trio was right and Snape was the one helping Voldemort, none of it would do much good since he'd know how to get past it.

She walked through the door, wand raised, and found herself surrounded by... flying keys? Three broomsticks were hovering in front of her. Harry, she thought wryly, probably hadn't had any problem with this. Just as she was about to force herself to take one of the brooms, the door opposite opened – and a very groggy Ron, supported by Hermione, hobbled out.

"Marina!" the girl exclaimed, panicked. "You have to help him."

"Obviously," Marina said with narrowed eyes. "What were you three thinking?"

"If Snape gets that stone, You-Know-Who comes back. Harry..."

And there it was. Eleven years old and he'd rather risk his life than let his parents' murderer win. How could anyone argue with that?

"He told me to send an owl to Dumbledore while he's-"

"He's right," Marina interrupted. "You go do that, I'll go and try to help him."

Easier said than done. Cold fear churned her stomach. She was under no illusions that if she really was about to face Voldemort, she didn't stand any chance. At all.

"But you can't!" Hermione almost whined. "You can't get through Snape's fire."

"His what-now?"

Hermione proceeded to explain all about how Harry had caught the key to get through this room, how Ron had actually won the giant bewitched chess game in the next, and how she and Harry – after having to leave an injured Ron behind – had been relieved the troll in yet the next room had already been dead. Then they'd come to Snape's riddle and potions, with both doors sealed by magical fire.

"I drank the potion to get back, and Harry took the rest of the one to keep going," Hermione reported miserably. "There's nothing left."

Marina's knees almost buckled in gratitude to Mad-Eye, whom she would never ever tease about his paranoia again. He'd taught her about the potions Snape had used; and both potions Harry and Hermione had used could be replicated by a spell if you were powerful enough. It was almost a N.E.W.T.-level charm, but she'd mastered it just the summer before under the strict guidance of the auror.

"I can get through," she assured the two worried friends. "Go ahead and get Dumbledore. I can help Harry but if it's really him..."

She didn't finish on account that they were probably already terrified enough.

Without another word Ron and Hermione grabbed a broomstick while she proceeded. The chess board looked like a battle field. Wizard's Chess was brutal, if you thought about it. To see the life-sized version the trio had taken part in... yeah.

Like Harry and Hermione before, she was really glad the troll was dead already. And then she entered the room she knew she'd never leave if she couldn't get the spell right. Good times.

As soon as the door closed behind her, flames shot up. Same with the door on the other side of the room. She couldn't help but think that Hermione was already a lot smarter than her, when she read the riddle. It would have taken her hours to figure that out – if she'd ever figured it out.

Marina forced herself to calm down and reach some semblance of a balanced mental state. Then she jabbed her wand forward once before pointing it at herself.

"Glacius maximus!"

Within seconds, she was almost frozen solid. Walking was a challenge now, but she supposed it was better than getting burned to a crisp.

Taking one last fortifying breath, she hurried and walked through the flames. It was a very odd sensation, to say the least. But thanks to the power she'd put behind her spell, it worked. The flames spit her out on the other side, in one peace and very warm – the ice had all melted away during those few seconds.

Neither one of the people down those handful of stairs had noticed her entry, and she ducked behind a column and out of sight. Her brain was struggling to process.

The trio had been wrong. It wasn't Snape who was helping Voldemort: it was Quirrell.

Insecure, nervous and stuttering Quirrell. Except, he was none of those things right now. He spoke perfectly articulate and his voice had a sharp edge to it she'd never heard before. Apparently, he'd asked Harry what he was seeing in... the Mirror of Erised. Trust Dumbledore to come up with that.

Harry mumbled some nonsense about winning the House Cup.

"He lies... he lies..."

Marina's hair stood on end. Quirrell hadn't spoken those words. The voice seemingly had come out of nowhere, sounding more like a snake than a human voice.

Harry was backing away from the evil wizard – and Marina noticed that his right hand was twitching towards his pocket. She knew that he kept his wand inside his jacket so what-?

"Let me speak to him," snarled the inhuman voice again.

"Master, you're not strong enough," Quirrell cautioned and at his use of the title, Marina's gut dropped.

"I have enough strength for this..."

Harry seemed just as frozen in horror as she was. They both watched as Quirrell unwound his idiotic turban. Once he pulled it off, she wished he hadn't.

Where the back of Quirrell's head was supposed to be, was a face. A horribly distorted, misshapen face. It didn't have a nose, but nostrils instead – like a snake. The eyes were gleaming red.

"Harry Potter," the face said, clearly unimpressed. "So we meet again."

Which was the confirmation of all Marina's worst fears. While Harry was talking with the monster that had murdered his parents and her mother, she was trying to come up with a way to get Harry out of there.

When Voldemort offered to resurrect James and Lily though, she couldn't stand back any longer.

She sent a stunning spell the monster's way, not in the least surprised when he deflected it with a simple flick of his – or Quirrell's – hand.

"Marina Black," her nightmare's face hissed. "Stupid like your father. He would've risked himself for his friends every time."

Disgust sounded in every word.

Marina on the other hand considered it a badge of honour. Any quality Voldemort didn't approve of was good.

"Better for friends than for you," she countered, a bit surprised that her voice came out steady. "Men like Quirrell are fools."

"Your mother didn't think so," the face suddenly smiled. "She offered to join me in exchange for her life."

Marina decided that smiling made him look even worse. She didn't rise to the bait though. Her mother had done no such thing.

"Give me the stone," Voldemort coaxed, suddenly sounding very serious. "And I will give you your father back."

Even though Marina knew very well he was lying, a painful hope rose in her chest. The monster knew where her father was and she didn't – and there came the resentment towards her guardians. Normally she stamped on that because she owed them so much, but right now she focused on it so she wouldn't fall into his trap and be distracted by false promises.

"Never," she said quietly, but her voice carried in the large room.

Harry, somehow recognising it as the sign it was, inched behind her. She wondered where the hell his wand was – not that it would do either of them much good.

"Kill her!" snarled Voldemort angrily and Quirrell turned around, facing her.

Marina noticed that he looked... weak. Exhausted. Then, she understood: the man was harbouring his master inside his own body, like a parasite. Even without training in the Dark Arts, common sense suggested that two … souls, in lack of a better word, in one body would drain said body faster. That was why they'd had to resort to drinking unicorn blood. Voldemort's possession was killing them both, just very slowly.

A very much insane plan formed in her head, even as she blocked the Cutting Hex her possessed opponent sent her way. A plan that might very well just get her killed faster. But it was probably Harry's only chance to get out of there alive.

"First chance you get-," she told Harry, "you run. Confringo!" She'd aimed the blast above Quirrell who now had to dodge the rubble.

She immediately erected a wall from the rest of the rubble, just in time to block the bright green spell that had probably been the Killing Curse.

"No third-year can fight that well!" Quirrell almost screeched in outrage and confusion.

"When they've been raised by aurors and members of the Order, they can," she taunted and blasted the mirror to pieces. She'd happily accept a year's worth detention for that if she made it out alive.

Again, Quirrell ducked out of the way. Then he sent the glass shards her way with an angry wave of his wand.

"Kill her, you fool!" screamed Voldemort, none too pleased. Non-verbal magic was something she couldn't do yet, unfortunately, so he saw everything coming that she threw his way.

Marina, on the other hand, was now reduced to Shield Charms and ducking for cover as Quirrell was very versed in casting without speaking.

Harry, following her instructions, tried to make a run for it. She watched in horror as the possessed maniac snapped his fingers – and set a circle of fire around the entire room. Considering it almost scorched her where she was, Marina assumed it was Fiendfyre; the foulest magic he could have come up with. She had never read or heard of anyone who could cast it without a wand.

Then, to make matters worse, Harry started to argue with the two-faced monster.

Quirrell, or Voldemort, obviously at his tether's end jumped and practically flew towards Harry. Marina aimed an "Impedimenta!" between them but it was no use. Still sailing through the air, Quirrell pointed his wand at her and this time she wasn't fast enough: his curse ripped deep, open wounds into her flesh. She crumbled, screaming.

Harry POV

Harry watched in terror as Marina fell, bleeding... just about everywhere. He took an instinctive step towards her before his brain kicked back in – just in time to look back at his enemy who was wrapping his hands around his throat.

"Foolish boy," Quirrell hissed and tightened his grip.

The stone, Harry thought, he couldn't get the stone.

He was getting dizzy but he saw how Marina raised her wand, her entire arm trembling with the effort, and blasted yet another column to pieces.

It surprised Quirrell for all of a second and that was all Harry had needed: he bucked underneath the man until he got his arms out from between them and tore at the madman's hands.

"You will pay for that, girl," Voldemort promised darkly. But then, to everyone's shock, Quirrell started screaming in agony and let go of Harry. The skin where Harry had touched him was burned black.

"What magic is this?" Quirrell demanded, the pain evident in his voice. His master however didn't care.

"Get the stone!" he ordered with a shriek. Quirrell's eyes sharpened again with focus.

"Touch him!" Marina croaked, scaring Harry with how weak she sounded. "Harry, touch him!"

She was becoming dangerously pale, he thought, and she was still bleeding. He didn't know how she was even still conscious.

"Harry, the... stone!" she visibly forced out, before slumping into a heap altogether.

Harry forced himself to focus on Quirrell, who seemed all of a second away from killing him from afar, and reached out to press his hands on the man's face.

He didn't have a choice, he reminded himself sternly, as Quirrell wailed in agony. He couldn't let Voldemort get the stone.

But the longer he kept his skin on Quirrell's, the longer he burned him, the weaker he became. He could feel himself slipping away, looking at Marina in despair. She'd come for him and now she would die for nothing. He would fail.

Harry barely felt his legs give out, even as his enemy crumpled along with him.

Darkness started creeping in, pulling him under and he could still hear Voldemort scream "Kill him!", even as some other voice called "Harry!" and he turned his head to look at the godsister who'd died for him today. His last thought before oblivion claimed him was that... he'd never even told her he loved her...