A/N: I know I am kind of rushing through years and events and I am sorry for that. It'll stop now :) Anyways, I hope you like the chapter I finally managed to finish! - Reviews never hurt, they only make me happy :)
Seventh.
She had spend the remain of the summer at Malfoy Manor, together with Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. Only once she had visited the people she once had called her family. Narcissa had forced her to be friendly, and to act like nothing happened. In her eyes there wasn't any need for them – for now, to understand the truth behind the sudden change in her daughter's behavior. And so Saiph stayed friendly and calm, around the people she once loved, but as soon as she had gathered all her belongings, she'd left the house knowing she wouldn't come back anytime soon again.
Those people weren't her family anymore. As much as she didn't belonged into their live anymore, as much did she start to hate them for what they were. She knew it wasn't their fault, they hadn't known that they had raised someone else's child. They did indeed believe that Saiph was their daughter, but she knew she wasn't.
She was the daughter of Bellatrix Black Lestrange.
Neither her, nor Narcissa or Lucius had managed to find out how it was possible that she grew up in a Muggle Family. But they were sure that someone had tried to hide her from the world, she knew that her uncle suspected Dumbledore but she didn't knew why. Why would the old wizard be interested to take Saiph away from her mother, her family and let her grow up in another family, betraying both, the family and the child? It didn't make sense.
Still, the young Slytherin caught herself starring questioning at the headmaster whenever she saw him. After all, there must be a reason why her uncle thought Dumbledore was playing a role. She didn't care about what had happened, at least not as much as Narcissa and Lucius did. Her mother couldn't had raised her anyways due the fact that she was send to Azkaban shortly after her daughter's birth. Of course, had Saiph imagined how her life would have been, growing up in a magical family, probably in a pure-blood family, but after all she wasn't as furious as her aunt and uncle were, to find out what had happened.
For her was more important now to find a way to gain as much knowledge about Bellatrix as possible, maybe she even would be able to find a way to visit her mother. Knowing, it was impossible to visit her mother, she kept her hopes low.
"How can you even wear this name with pride?" suddenly someone asked, pulling the young witch out of her thoughts. "Excuse me?" she asked coldly starring at the group in front of her. She had spent the past three hours in the library, her save place. Whenever she needed time alone, she came here knowing none of her friends would disturb her in her studies, everyone outside her house avoided her anyways. Thanks to her new surname. So she was surprised to see now a group of Griffindor's in front of her.
Tilting her head slightly, she smiled. "I couldn't care less about what you think about me, my name or my mother. It is none of your business anyways." She scoffed. "Now if you could please let me alone to continue my studies?" she added almost politely. The cold smile still on her lips she faced the book in front of her again. Thinking about it, she wasn't surprised that they asked her after her name, after her mother since she had disappeared out of Azkaban only a few weeks ago. They said Sirius Black had helped her and everyone else who had managed to escape that night, but the Slytherin knew better.
Sirius wasn't a member of the Black Family anymore, he might carry the name, but he had stopped being a Black, the day he got sorted into Griffindor. Wrinkling her nose at the thought of being a Griffindor, she continued to read the paragraph she had last put her eyes on, only to get disturbed again.
"How. Can. You. Wear. Her. Name. With. Pride?" someone asked again, almost sounding disgusted. Slightly annoyed she looked up. Potter. The boy who lived – she thought, feeling the anger towards him raise deeply inside her. She couldn't stand him. Not because he lived, no because everybody seemed to adore this little brat, ignoring that he hadn't done anything. It was his mother's love that'd protected him, and not something he'd done himself. There was no need to look up at him, he wasn't brilliant or outstanding – apart from Quidditch, but still everybody loved him.
"My mother, is a brilliant witch, more skilled then most of the people who teach us here, why shouldn't I wear her name with pride?" she replied, trying her best to remain calm. Over the years she had learned to calm her tantrums, according to her aunt, didn't they fit within the behavior of a pure-blood lady. But Potter, somehow always managed to get her close to forget about her manners. Who did he think he was? Insulting her, because of her name? After all, she belonged to the Noble House of Black.
"Because, she is insane? A murderer, who loved to torture?" Hermione blurted out. "Nobody asked you, Granger" Saiph spit. "My mother surly had her reasons for what she did." She replied forcing herself to stay calm again. "And I have to say…" she continued and grabbed bag, including the book she had read, "…I am beginning to understand her" she finished, leaving the group in front of her starring shocked after. "Oh and Potter, maybe you could ask my dear uncle Sirius, next time you see him, why he is still carrying the name Black, ignoring the fact that he isn't worth it anymore?" she asked coldly, listening to the angry grunt before she left the library with a smile across her face.
She knew it wouldn't take long till he would try to find a way to insult either Draco or herself again, but she didn't cared knowing that she could easily shoot back, especially with Umbridge in charge.
Slowly did the young witch direct her steps towards the Manor in front of her, since the one eventful night two years ago she had spend every vacation together with Draco, Narcissa and Lucius. She still saw the Muggle's twice a year. Her aunt always forced her to visit them and to remain friendly around them. She still believed that it wasn't the time yet, to tell them the truth. However, this year was different, at least so she had hoped.
After the Dark Lord's return, and her mother's escape from Azkaban she had at hoped to get anything from her mother, but Narcissa hadn't even mentioned her in any of her letters. Surly, what had she expected? Her mother was one of the most feared and most wanted witches, she wouldn't wait for her at Kings Cross, but still she had hoped for something, no matter how small.
With a hint of disappointment written over the young witches features, she followed her aunt towards the dark wooden double doors and inside the Manor. "I'll be upstairs, in my room" she told Narcissa without even looking at the older witch when she walks up the stairs towards the formally guestroom which had become her room over the past years. Of course, had Narcissa given her the room which had once belonged to her mother. Despite the fact that she wasn't speaking much about her own sister, she still had hoped Saiph would find a way herself, to gain more knowledge about the dark witch.
She sat at the windowsill, surrounded by silence and darkness. She still loved the darkness, more than anything else. She had mastered to sneak around, unnoticed and unseen. Even here at Malfoy Manor she had managed to sneak into the library or Lucius' study by night, in hope to find anything new about her mother. Often, she would get back into her room, disappointed.
A sudden glimmer of light caused her to escape her thoughts. She hadn't noticed that anyone had joined her in her dark island. Believing it was her aunt, looking after her she didn't turn around. She wasn't in the mood for socializing anyways.
As the light came closer, she wasn't able to see much of her surroundings outside the Manor anymore. Only her own reflection in the glass. Believing she soon would see her aunts features and blonde hair next to her own reflection, she still didn't turn around. Even if it wasn't her aunt, disturbing her loneliness, she wasn't in for any conversations. "You know, it is dangerous especially for your stubborn reasons, not to face whoever enters the room" a unfamiliar voice hissed close by hear ear. "What?" she asked frowning not daring to turn around. "What if I planned to hurt you, or even voice?" the low female voice continued. "If you'd plan on doing that, you would have done that the moment you entered my room, with me still hidden deeply in my thoughts. So why should you bother if I look into your face or not? As far as my knowledge goes avoid most murderer small-talk with their victims." she finally responded. "Right" the voice agreed much calmer now, almost sounding impressed. Saiph slowly titled her head, still wondering why she couldn't see any reflection of whoever was with her, in the window in front of her. "Your aunt was right, with what she told me about you" the voice spoke again, sounding sweetly and nice. "My aunt?" the young witch asked, tilting her head a bit more, finally realizing why she wasn't able to see a reflection of whoever was behind her. She had starred the whole time into those black eyes, believing it were her own. But they weren't.
tbc.