In the Shadow of Azkaban

Volume II: Alternate Ending II

Marat's Point-of-View
The Outer Hebrides, Scotland
March 1896

Back in December, I scanned the entire party for the culprit and created a plan. It took a great amount of patience to not just kill the insolent girl on sight.

The last three months were unbearable. If not for Marvolo and Morganna, I would have ended my life.

But revenge was another outlet that kept me going. Once a week, to scope out the area and learn their patterns, I returned to the Outer Hebrides. Sebastian had partnered with this Imelda girl, and by the looks of it, I could tell he despised her. No one would miss this witch.

I only saw Iskra a handful of times. She was breathtaking as she maneuvered herself about the training fields. She sparred with Sebastian, and each time, her sheer strength took him down. Iskra hadn't even broken a sweat.

At first, it had been innocent. They met up to practice and duel before embarking on their next adventure. But then their interactions appeared different, and even from many meters away, I sensed the change.

Sebastian's gaze lingered over her while her touch stayed for too many moments. The longing manifested as the electricity between their fingertips. Watching her fall in love with him all over again kept me up at night.

I entered Sebastian's thoughts to confirm Iskra had followed my instructions. She had forgotten me, and in my place was Sebastian. I asked for this fate; curiosity had killed the cat.

Although, as much as it made me physically ill, their little rendezvous acted immensely beneficial for my plan.

A week ago, I wrote two different letters and sent them via anonymous owls while Sebastian was on assignment. One to Sebastian and one to Iskra professing their love to one another, and each parchment gave directions to a location. It was a small bed and breakfast I encountered upon apparating out here.

They both took the bait.

Once I was sure Imelda had been alone, I concealed myself and carefully approached the cottage.

My wand rested against my thigh. The burning of it between the pads of my fingers was not something one could ignore. I twirled it between my thumb and forefinger. The feeling brewing inside of me was that of a true Gaunt.

It was probably midnight. I hadn't been aware of the actual time when I crept inside the front door. There weren't any candles burning or even a fire.

"Lumos." My wand lit just enough for me to see ahead, and I carefully climbed the stairs. My body was nimble enough to manage the trek without causing any creaking.

At the landing, there were four rooms. Iskra had stayed with the two once she returned, and I hadn't cared if it ruined the plan; I entered her chamber.

The room smelled like cinnamon—like her. The bedspread had been crumpled up at the edge of the mattress. There were a couple night tables and a dresser, but I instantly recognized her favorite corner.

A few paintings rested against the windowsill. Drying. Some paints were scattered along the floor, as well. But there was one work that stood out on the easel, half-finished.

I covered my mouth with my hands while I studied it. It was supposed to be a portrait of Sebastian. I think. His face didn't seem right. But then I noticed it. It appeared as if Iskra took her finger and smeared the paint to create my scar across his face. How in Merlin's name did she remember that?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and return to my mission. Imelda.

I left my Iskra's room exactly as she had it and ambled over to the witch's room.

I knew it was her before I even entered her quarters. The combination of snorting and snoring ensured me that this had, in fact, been the right pig.

Before she could even bat her stupid eyes open, I cast, "Petrificus Totalus."

The frozen appearance overtook her body, and she even seemed cold to the touch when I bound her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. I crumpled up the newspaper on her nightstand and shoved it in her mouth.

Her eyes slit open at the feeling. I chose this spell on purpose. She could experience her normal senses with this curse. Perhaps next time she wouldn't share information that wasn't hers to do so in the first place.

But after I was done with her, she'd be dead anyways. Oh well.

I took my wand and lit a candle with the blasting curse. Then, I moved it to her skin.

The tip of the wood burned the word, "Revenge," into her left forearm. The blood pooling out of the letters began bubbling, just as I planned. It turned her fluids into acid and ate away at her limb.

The other side was due for a slow severing curse. But she made no noise, and if this was to constitute as torture, she needed to cry. Just as Iskra had when my mother induced her miscarriage.

"Episkey!" I let the counter-curse take effect, and the reaction was gratifying.

The pleading and begging that drooled from her lips did nothing but make me want to hurt her more. No one was able to fight for my child when they experienced a similar fate. And Imelda was the one that let it happen.

My anger got the best of me when I resorted to my father's favorite curse.

"Avada Kedavra!" My vision burned green, and her annoying cries ceased just like my little one's heartbeat.

I aimed my wand at her again to remove the evidence, "Incendio!" The room shifted from green to red with orange flickering. Looking at the scene, I realized that's what I felt inside. Hatred. Regret. Loss.

But Imelda deserved it, and I could go home and rest. I longed for Iskra to hold me in her arms, but I had been the one to say goodbye.

She chose to be with Sebastian, and I loved her; so I had to let her go. To keep her safe.