Fresh tears were streaming down her face as she was sitting at the table, her head in her hands. She'd told her father everything.
And he hadn't left his room in three days.
When he hadn't come out the day after she'd come clean, Remus and Marina had called in the cavalry in form of all their friends. Their collective shock at the news had knocked her right out.
But even Hestia hadn't managed to coax him out.
Her friends had tried to get her to go back to the castle with them, but she'd gotten permission to stay home for as long as she needed before she'd left. She wasn't leaving him like this.
Even if his pain and anger killed her.
Yes, she was being dramatic on that one, but sometimes it felt like it. She didn't know how a single person could take that much grief and not break.
He was grieving the daughter he'd never met and lost.
But he was also beyond furious at her mother. He'd broken everything that reminded him of her in his rage.
Marina's ears were still ringing from Dromeda's, Molly's and Laura's collective outrage over how a mother could possibly burden her own child with something like this. Remus hadn't uttered a word about it but she knew he felt the same.
To make matters worse, as it turned out someone else had known about Titania. She was the reason why Mad-Eye had taken her under his cloak – he had promised her mother to protect her. He'd gone after Wilkes in the hopes of retrieving her sister, as a favour to Rose, and had ended up killing the man in self-defence. That's how he'd lost the chunk of his nose.
Last night she'd heard Padfoot howling almost all night long. The man hadn't slept or eaten in three days. If anything he was getting worse.
And then there was the comment Dora had made – probably without realising what she'd stumbled on. Apparently Titania, who Dora had thought had been Marina, had visited the Ministry. More specifically, the Hall of Prophecy.
The one who knows our hearts has arrived … born to one who hides her power and one who gives his to others, never himself, born along with the seventh month... and she will stand with our Chosen against the Darkest Evil... and she must chose whether to face a battle of great pain to her soul... either she will strike down her enemy or fall at the loyal evil's hand... born along with the seventh month...
Her father had understood immediately. Personally, she couldn't come up with anything more painful than having to face down her own sister, even when she'd never known her.
She officially hated prophecies.
"You should have told us right away," Remus told her tiredly. They were both on their fourth cup of coffee.
"Why? Because he's taking it so well?" she replied sarcastically, massaging her temples.
"You have this backwards. He's supposed to be protecting you, not the other way around."
"There is no protecting me from this. Something tells me that even if Mum hadn't written that letter, I would have found out sooner or later."
"She should never have sent it to you," he growled, still mad about it.
"Maybe not, but she did. Besides, she didn't know if you two would even survive."
"You shouldn't have to deal with it."
"I shouldn't have to do a lot of things. Life isn't fair – just ask Harry. Plus, I'm more worried about Dad right now."
No wizard in history had ever died of a sodding heart attack, but at this rate his would give out.
"Your father will be fine," Hestia butted in, warming her hands on her mug.
"He's refusing to talk to even you. That doesn't qualify as fine."
It had been a bit of a shock for Marina to realise that Hestia had, at least unofficially, moved in. She still had her own place but more and more of her stuff seemed to take residence here.
She did not want to think about why that was bothering her. They did so not have time for this.
"I didn't wanna say something I couldn't take back."
All three of them flinched so hard their coffee spilled.
He sounded as bad as he had the days after Azkaban.
Marina turned around and winced again. He looked the part too.
Before anyone could so much as take a breath, he crossed the room and pulled Marina into a hug (that almost crushed her ribs).
"I'm so sorry, Kitten," he mumbled into her hair, sounding... broken.
"What exactly are you apoligising for?" she demanded, craning her neck to look at him.
"If I hadn't left to play hero..."
"You were trying to keep James and Lily safe. To keep Harry safe," she interrupted sternly, unwilling to let him go there. "Mum made her choice and didn't tell you. Or anyone else, expect Mad-Eye, for that matter."
Personally, she was confused as to why she hadn't told Dumbledore. Then again, the man had left her father to rot in Azkaban, so who is to say he wouldn't have knowingly left her sister to her fate too?
"She should have," her Dad growled, some of his anger coming back through. "She should never have put this on you."
"Yes, well. It's done now."
Neither Remus nor Hestia had moved a muscle and they were watching them silently. Her father didn't show any signs of letting her go anytime soon. That, she understood. A new name had just been added to the list of people he'd lost after all.
"Promise you won't do anything stupid, Dad," she mumbled after a few minutes, still in his arms.
That was what she was most afraid of. Titania was well guarded, even though she would probably disagree with that assessment. She was always surrounded by several Death Eaters.
He squeezed her tighter in response.
"Don't worry," Hestia piped up. "We'll keep an eye on things."
In other words, her Dad now had several babysitters.
"Right. I should probably get back to school." Time to face her pissed off friends.
Her father kissed her on the forehead and finally let go.
Marina hugged Hestia and Remus good-bye, her stomach still in knots. That probably wasn't going away anytime soon.
Watching the quartet trying not to worry her was... kind of sweet. Her premonitions had given them all enough fair warning to know where not to go in the maze – and avoid all the nasty beasts they had brought in. At least the ones she'd seen.
But she hadn't missed that they were sneaking around a lot, and making sure she never knew where they were going. Given the way she'd been acting the past two months, she had no right to judge whatsoever. Except something was up.
Harry knew better than to sneak off with what was going on. Hell, even if the boys had decided to ignore the potential danger – as per usual – , what in the world had possessed the girls to go along with it?
"You need to talk to Hermione," one of the twins grouched, plopping down in the armchair next to her. They were in an amazingly lousy mood.
"Why?"
"The house-elves are not coming to Gryffindor anymore," the other twin mimicked his brother. When they were in even the same mood, she could never tell them apart.
Hermione had been leaving socks and hats around the tower in an effort to free the elves. Now, she'd knitted them herself so they barely qualified as clothes, but the elves apparently still took offence. Susan had joined her best friend's mild insanity after meeting Dobby and Winky.
Winky. Now that elf was a wrinkle. Marina couldn't come up with any sensible reason as to why Crouch would all of a sudden have dismissed the elf that so obviously worshipped him. She was utterly miserable at being free.
"I can't work miracles," she replied and re-heated her tea, pointing her wand. "The girls disapprove of slavery – and I don't necessarily disagree."
Kreacher would refute that, probably. He was still firmly bound to her family and, frankly, her every whim. She didn't use that so-called power but still. The nasty little bugger had his orders to keep the Black House clean and keep an eye on Narcissa otherwise. If she got in trouble, he was to get her to safety immediately. With his elf-magic it was easy enough.
She should have ordered him out of the house for good, having him stay somewhere else, but she didn't have it in her. Taking him away from Walburga's portrait would probably kill him. Her father had no intention of stepping foot in there ever again, so she supposed there was no harm.
"We'll have no clean clothes by Walpurgis," they grumbled in unison. She snorted. Almost no one called the holiday that anymore.
Only witches usually remembered the Witch's Night. The girls usually went to the Weird Sisters concert – Dumbledore really liked signing special permissions.
But this time, the word triggered her.
Part of her knew she was having a premonition; and a darn strong one at that. But the rest of her conscious firmly believed she actually was in the future.
And it was her, and Harry's, every fear and nightmare come to life.
Her brother was tied up, bleeding, and watching in horror as the bane of everyone's existence returned to the world of the embodied. Wormtail was whimpering next to his rising master, clutching his arm. Crouch was kneeling, rapture on his face.
Bellatrix was cackling, louder and madder than ever. She was standing over a trembling body, her wand still firmly pointed at her writhing victim.
And Marina realized a second before she succumbed that said victim was her.
Then she was sucked into the vision so completely, she might as well already be there; the pain took her breath.
So came the hard part. Because she knew that this wasn't real; yet. Controlling her visions was something she could barely ever do, but staying stuck in this agony was not really on the schedule. Following Pheora's advice, she focused on her strongest emotions – love and friendship – to anchor herself to the real version of her; the one that was probably giving the twins heart attacks by now.
She watched events unfold in terror, unable to do anything but witness how Bellatrix tortured her in front of her Death Eater friends, and how Voldemort challenged Harry. Toying with his prey.
The only thing that didn't shock her was Harry's stubborn courage not to die a coward. And her own determination not to give Bellatrix the satisfaction of breaking.
All the cowards were laughing at what they perceived to be their lord's sure victory. All but one.
One masked figure stood completely still and tense. Giving himself away to an observant Dark Lord.
None of this could happen. Marina couldn't let it happen. And yet...
As if her thoughts had been the cue for the powers-that-be who sent her those visions, she found herself back in reality.
To her surprise though, she wasn't in the common room anymore. She was in the hospital wing. And her father was there.
"Dear Merlin, how long was I out?" she questioned, her throat so dry she croaked.
"Three hours," her answered grimly, worry lines marring his face. "When you didn't come out of it after thirty minutes, your friends brought you down here."
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the cobwebs she always had after Seeings.
"Aren't you supposed to be on duty?" she asked while sitting up. It had been a bad one.
"I was. Until Madame Pomfrey contacted St. Mungo's about how to treat Seers – and the Healer in question sent me a Patronus."
Perfectly timed, her father's partner walked in. Kingsley looked utterly too tired.
"We went off duty early. Our lead was going nowhere anyway," the man explained with a shrug and handed her Dad what she presumed to be coffee.
"Just please tell me you didn't tell David," she sighed and accepted the hot chocolate that Kingsley levitated her way.
"No, but I imagine Carmen will," her Dad put in dryly.
"Lovely."
Silence reigned for a few minutes and Marina was just waiting for one of them to crack. But neither did. Instead, Remus did the honours, waltzing in.
"What on earth did you see?"
Even before he had finished, she was shaking her head.
"I can't tell you."
She'd reached that conclusion almost as soon as she'd woken up. She couldn't tell anyone what she'd seen. Not even Harry. Not until she saw more anyway. Her Dad didn't like that at all.
"What?"
"Remember what I said about why Mum didn't tell anyone James and Lily weren't gonna make it?"
"You're saying that telling us would make it worse?"
"Or that we would unintentionally make it worse."
Which, admittedly, was a stretch. Because how could it get any worse? The monster everyone was scared to death of returning? Bellatrix torturing her to the edge of insanity? Harry having to face his nemesis yet again?
But she knew her gift by now, knew when to meddle – or not. And every cell in her body told her that they couldn't avoid it. Voldemort would come back, there was no two ways about it; and he would use them to achieve that, whether they liked it or not.
None of that could be changed, she knew it. But no one else would be willing to accept that, so they'd try to prevent it and potentially mess everything up.
Because there was one thing she could do. Make sure they made it out alive.
And if anyone tried to change the future, they might change that chance – and get them killed.
Her senses told her she still had a little time to do some digging.
Then she'd have to tell Harry. She couldn't let him walk into that blind.
"Your message sounded urgent," Ben said curiously.
Marina couldn't get over how much he'd changed the last few years. He was still the aristocratic pure-blood, wearing fancy robes and giving off an air of superiority. But he looked a lot more like his brother lately, his face no longer the stoic mask he used to wear. Plus, he actually sounded like a normal human being again.
She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to have to give him these bad news. Unfortunately, there was no way around it. Besides, forewarned was forearmed, right?
"He'll be back soon, Ben," she said quietly, despite the fact that they were alone at his house.
All colour drained from the man's face, as he didn't even need to ask who she was talking about. Her tone said it all.
"And when that happens, he'll call you all to his side."
Almost in reflex, he covered the arm that bore the Dark Mark. His emotions crashed and burned even as his poker face stayed in place.
"You had a Seeing?" he questioned, dread clear in his voice. Everyone had suffered under Voldemort's reign, but it had to be worse on Benjamin.
Marina still remembered the very first Seeing she'd ever had about him. Visions of the past were rare; but they were always true, since they were triggered by residue magic and emotion.
Benjamin had refused his so-called master's orders – to torture and kill some poor muggle-born – and had paid a terrible price. As punishment for his refusal to bloody his hands (or wand), Voldemort had murdered Ben's son Michael. In front of poor, pregnant, Katherine no less.
Michael would have been Charlie's age. The only mercy had been that, thanks to the aurors, he hadn't suffered. They'd been closing in on Voldemort's location, so the bastard hadn't had time to torture him to punish his father.
Katherine had given birth to Theo a few months later – and then she'd just... died. No one could explain why exactly; she'd been perfectly healthy. Marina suspected her grief had done her in.
"It can't be prevented, Ben, so I need you to keep this secret," she explained grimly. "But I needed to tell you so you don't get blindsided." Plus, she really hoped he would just ignore the call when it came and stay wherever he would be.
"And you want me to stay away," he mused, making her wonder if maybe her occlumency wasn't up to par today.
"Well, yes. If I could find a way out of this I'd-"
She cut herself off, but she'd already slipped up. Ben's eyes narrowed as he studied her.
"Does your father know?"
"You're joking, right?" she huffed, giving up on the pretence. "I'm sure Jupiter has filled you in on the lovely news that I have a sister. If I tell Dad now that I'll be in trouble soon..."
She shook her head. Reckless woud be too mild a word to describe her father's reaction.
"He's your father. It should be his choice," Ben reprimanded, regret choking him up.
"Tough. I need him to stay safe for Harry," she disagreed. "I've had a family – not necessarily mine, but a family. Harry was alone this whole time – and something tells me the real danger is yet to come. I don't want him to have to face that alone. So Dad needs to stay alive."
"Are you gonna make it out alive?"
The family resemblance was uncanny. Neither David nor Carmen would have let her off the hook, let alone their parents.
"I don't know," she admitted, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "If so, I didn't see how."
Personally, she was leaning towards the assumption that she wouldn't make it out, at least not even remotely in once piece. There was no way she could think of that she could get away from Bellatrix once she succumbed, let alone the fruitcake's master. But maybe getting Harry out would distract them long enough for her to disapparate to Merlin knew where. And splinter herself in the process, probably.
"How is it you're not afraid?" Benjamin asked her, flabberghasted.
"Who says I'm not?" she countered dryly, dropping her hands back onto the table. "I'm just very used to hiding it. Showing fear just gets you into trouble."
"Then why not ask the family for help?"
"Because that could just make it worse. And I am not risking Harry's life for mine."