❝ Maybe in another universe, she was easier to love.❞
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
｢ in which the siren darya swan is
forced to become a death eater,
and work alongside the infamous
regulus black. together, they decide
to destroy tom riddle from the inside...
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A week had passed since the fight at Malfoy Manor. The purple bruises on her neck were starting to vanish, and she was finally back at St. Mungo's.
She had made up a lie that she told nearly everyone. It went like this: the bruises had been made by a student at Hogwarts under a horrible curse that made them violent. But she was alright.
She had tried to heal her skin at Swan Manor, with Regulus watching, but she couldn't do it. She concluded that it was because her body was too tired. He insisted that she rest. He had helped her to her bed before disappearing with the tides, leaving her as nothing but a large question mark. Regulus had told her about his past, rescued her, and fought his family so she could be safe, risking his own health. Could it be possible that he had... grown to care for her?
Darya felt someone poke her side. She looked down and found a little boy there with pink cheeks and large brown eyes. His lips formed a circle, and his brows were arched. Quickly, she forgot her worries and began to ponder what his troubles could be.
"Hello," she greeted him softly. "Are you alright?"
He shook his head. "I need help: my friend is hurting."
Darya looked up at her mother, who was so busy, that she didn't even notice the staring. She had to deal with this on her own. "Well, where is your friend, then?"
"You have to follow me."
He took her hand, his small one trying to wrap around hers but only ending up getting ahold of her finger. They walked out of the room and down the corridor, passing the blue door, the pink and the orange.
"Can you tell me what's wrong with him?" she asked as they walked down the stairs to the third floor. The boy didn't answer, so she paused before continuing, "Is he bleeding? Feeling nauseous? Ill?"
When the doorknob of the yellow door on floor three twisted open without any of them touching it, Darya fell to her knees.
The whole floor was a large pool of crimson blood. Her favorite patient lay in it, with her doll beside her.
"Amalia," Darya shrieked, crawling to her on the floor. Her white uniform, her knees, and her hands were getting covered in the blood. "Amalia, Amalia, please-"
She lifted Amalia's head into her lap and checked her pulse, only to feel nothing. The ten-year-old was dead. The death rattle breathing silenced as the soul was leaving.
"Why did you do that, Darya?" The yellow door smacked shut. She jumped and turned. It was Tom Riddle who was standing there, shaking his head. "Why did you kill her?"
Darya rose from the floor and charged at him. It was he who had murdered Amalia; she knew it. She lost control. She knit her fist so hard that her knuckles turned white. For the first time, witnessing death did not bring her grief or sorrow. No, she felt pure, unbridled rage. She yearned to harm him, to exact vengeance. An eye for an eye, a life for a life.
