Bella was in pain. Not just physical pain — but a deep, crushing agony inside her soul. She wanted to end her life, to simply stop existing, but she couldn't. Not here, not now, not before she had paid her debts. She owed Marlow her mind, her freedom, her very life. She owed Voldemort revenge.
Until both debts were settled — she had no right to die. And after that… after that, she would let Marlow — Arthur — decide her fate. If he told her to live, she would live, fulfilling her duty. If he told her to die, she would do it without hesitation — she would cast Avada at her own forehead, or bite off her tongue and drown in her own blood if she had no wand at hand.
Everything she had believed in was meaningless now. The people she had loved most had sold her out, betrayed her, all for the so-called glory of the family. But what had this family ever given her? A broken mind? A marriage of calculation to a man who had violated her? Wealth and knowledge — what good were they if you couldn't use them as you wished?
She came to in the same garden, her head splitting with pain. But after several charms from Marlow, she felt a little better.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, and there was real concern in his voice. She didn't care about his concern or his sympathy. Maybe it was all a game, a bluff, but at that moment, it hit her like a cold shower after the storm of emotions and memories she had just relived.
No, she wasn't naïve enough to trust someone she barely knew, and she allowed for the possibility that Marlow might have falsified her memories. But not entire layers of her life, not the avalanche of emotions, feelings, and thoughts that came with them. And if he was capable of that, he certainly hadn't done it for her sake. But girls had given their devotion for less.
At first glance, Marlow was different from Gaunt. Gaunt had preferred to break her — psychologically, physically, mentally — and now, an unquenchable anger raged inside her, the legacy of that second half, born from his actions. Only now, that anger was no longer directed at Muggles, half-bloods, or Muggle-borns, but at specific people.
"Don't you dare pity me!" Bella shouted, defiant, holding herself together only through anger and pride, though inside she was shattered, crushed. Part of her felt as if it had vanished, like that kitten… what was his name? Tom? The irony of it! If only another Tom would disappear from her life forever, as if he had never existed. But she found the strength to rise, trying to ignore the nausea and dizziness. Of course, she swayed, and Marlow caught her, steadying her, which made her body tense up in fear at his touch.
"Don't touch me! You saw what I am — how dirty, how disgusting. I'm repulsive even to myself now, let alone to others!" Bella looked anywhere but into Marlow's eyes. "You saw me kill innocent people, and then you saw me… violated. You must be disgusted to even touch me! I would be, in your place!"
"I see before me a lonely, unhappy girl whom life has beaten down," Marlow answered quietly.
Bella pressed her lips together and turned away. She didn't know how to react. He was kind to her, but he was also the one who had forced her to relive the most nightmarish moments of her life, long forgotten and cut from memory. He had helped her, but always with his own interests in mind, not out of care for her. So, at that moment, she didn't know how to feel about him. In some ways, he reminded her of Gaunt — everything for the sake of his goal, though his methods were not as cruel or merciless.
"You asked why I helped you. Do you still want to know the answer?" he asked.
"Do you think you look impressive, speaking in riddles? I don't need your answers, just help me kill that bastard," she said. Still, compared to the maniac Gaunt, Arthur seemed a much more pleasant person. He was handsome, kind, had saved her, and even after seeing everything, he didn't seem repulsed by her.
That alone would have been enough for many girls to fall in love with him, but she was in no mood for love, not after what she'd been through. And he had shown her that, despite what he'd seen, she wasn't repulsive to him. But… could she trust him? Trust was easy only for the very young and innocent.
"Can you let me go now?" she asked, clearly uncomfortable in a man's embrace.
"I'm diagnosing you," he replied, and for some reason, that brought Bella a strange relief mixed with a hint of offense. It was a contradictory feeling — on the one hand, he wasn't interested in her as a woman, which was a relief, but on the other, perhaps the reason was that he actually was disgusted by her and just didn't show it.
"And how is she?" asked Dorothea, whom Bella had almost forgotten about. If not for her newly restored memories, she might have even envied her — a strong wizard, and, more importantly, a good man as a fiancé. That was unimaginable luxury for an aristocrat of her level. Dorothea herself, thanks to her connection with her master, knew what Bella had experienced and sympathized with her.
"The personalities have merged, but as a side effect, she'll have constant migraines for several days," Marlow answered, stepping away from Bella, which brought her relief. He cast charms on her, and she felt better. "Anesthetic charms. They'll wear off in a couple of hours."
"And what next?" Dorothea asked, crossing her arms under her chest.
"First, the contract," Marlow conjured two sheets of parchment from thin air and tapped them with his wand, causing the contract's text to appear. Bella had never seen such magic. In a magical contract, you didn't need much bureaucracy — the agreement was sealed by the investment of mental and astral imprint, backed by magic. "I have two contract options for you.
First: as I promised, I don't tell anyone what I saw in your memory, and you don't sue me. Second: we continue to cooperate, I help you become stronger, and you tell me what you consider necessary. Naturally, non-disclosure will also apply to knowledge received from each other."
"And what can you teach me? Well, besides mental magic — you're clearly a master at that," Bella said. She didn't know Marlow was an artificer, so she spoke only of what she'd seen. She didn't consider him a master of combat, more a good duelist. He hadn't shown any spells except Sectumsempra, Protego, and fire control, and the saber was probably a family artifact. Impressive against a Hogwarts graduate, but not against a battle mage.
"Did you see my saber?" he asked. She nodded. "I made it myself."
"You're lying!" she blurted out.
"Why would I need to?" Marlow smirked. He knew Bella was already on his hook, so giving her a bit more information to earn her trust wasn't a big risk.
"I don't know, but… why show it, then?" she asked, confused. "If anyone finds out you can make artifacts at the level of the Founders, you'll never have peace."
"And what did you think when you saw my saber?"
"That it was a family artifact."
"Exactly. That's the effect I wanted — modern wizards worship the artifacts of ancient mages so much, they don't even try to replicate them. I needed to hide my real strength, so I acted that way. So, which contract will you sign?" Bella was very curious about what Marlow was hiding. But essentially, she wasn't losing anything. If Arthur's knowledge and skills turned out to be useless, she simply wouldn't be able to talk about it. Not a great loss. But if they were useful… she might have the chance to take revenge on Gaunt herself.
"All right, let's go with the second contract," she said. After carefully reading the sheet and checking it with charms for hidden text, Bella signed it with a blood quill. Only now did she notice the diadem on her head — the artifact had adjusted so comfortably to her that she'd forgotten it was there. She tried to take it off and immediately winced as the migraine intensified.
"I wouldn't advise removing Ravenclaw's diadem. It's what reduced the side effects from merging your personalities and helps you stay conscious now," Marlow warned.
"Another of your artifacts?" she asked, putting the diadem back on.
"No, I said it's Ravenclaw's diadem. Yes, that one," he answered, seeing the unspoken question in her eyes. "You can't imagine — I found it at Hogwarts. There was a piece of soul inside, but I already extracted it."
"A piece of soul? Who would dare to tear their soul apart?" Bella was shocked.
"Your Lord," Marlow said. At these words, Bella shuddered, her face twisting with disgust. "He tore his soul, and not just once. That's probably why he became a sick, broken psychopath."
"Don't call that creature my Lord!" Bella snapped. "If I saw him now, I'd tear him to pieces! Just like Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Walburga!"
"That's exactly why we have only five minutes to find a way out of this situation. You're a little unstable right now and might cause trouble."
"I'm unstable? I've never been so clear-headed!" Mana began to flow from her, and she almost triggered an elemental outburst, but managed to calm herself thanks to Marlow's aura. "Yes, you're right. I'm a bit off."
"Then I suggest this. I have Polyjuice Potion in my spatial pocket. You and Dorothea will exchange appearances, and you, under her guise, will claim you felt ill. Dorothea will play you, strolling with me."
"It would be rude to leave the reception," Bella said, but she was already considering the plan.
"I know. But I'm not planning to become one of their own in this — excuse me — aristocratic swamp. They'll never accept me: a half-blood, engaged to a Veela, and a 'frog' from across the Channel. So what's the point of trying?" he asked.
"You're right," Bella thought, rolling the idea around. "But what's the point for me to go beyond the perimeter? And how will you copy my behavior?"
"You'll see, Miss Black, you'll see," he said, handing her a Portkey to Availon and warning Hal about the volatile guest. He pulled out two vials of Polyjuice, took hair from Dorothea and Bella, and gave them the potion. Their features shifted, and they switched places. "You see, Miss Black, I have a separate space where time flows differently. My assistant will help you recover and provide you with the necessary information. As for copying — Dorothea is my familiar, so she knows what I know."
"So she can tell everything about me, and you won't get backlash?" Bella asked, annoyed.
"No, Dorothea isn't an ordinary familiar, and if I get backlash, she'll get it too through our connection — I didn't deceive you about that."
"A Veela familiar, well, I'll be," Bella said, looking at herself in a new way.
"She's not only a Veela, but also a fairy and a nymph. It's complicated, yes, and we need to go now," Marlow said. The questioning had dragged on, and the time acceleration dome would collapse soon.
"Fine, but I hope to hear answers to my questions later!" Bella threatened. Fortunately, Marlow could sense Gaunt's rotten aura from afar, so they managed to avoid any incidents — Bella was barely restraining herself from destroying everything around her. Only the clear mind charms and the diadem saved her. They reached the exit, and under Dorothea's guise, Bella approached the portal platform and disappeared in a flash of teleportation.
***
Ten minutes after simulating communication between Dorothea (as Bella) and Marlow, Sirius approached them, looking displeased. "Mister Marlow? Orion Black would like to see you in his study. And why should I act as an errand boy?"
"Oh, Sirius is pouting, so cute!" Dorothea teased, ruffling his cheek. Sirius grimaced.
"Cousin, maybe you can escort your companion yourself?" Sirius asked.
"No, Sirius, you won't get away from us that easily, so lead on," Dorothea replied. Apparently, this worked, because otherwise Marlow wouldn't know where to find Orion's study in this palace. Asking, with "Bella" standing nearby, would have been suspicious. Sirius led them to the study and quickly retreated.
Marlow knocked and, receiving permission, entered.
***
Orion's study was a Victorian-style room, overwhelmingly green: the chair upholstery, wallpaper, curtains, and even the ceiling were all the same dark lettuce color. To the right and opposite the entrance was a window; to the left, a massive oak desk with Orion seated behind it. Opposite the desk was another chair, already occupied by Walburga. There was no other seating. Further back was a large fireplace, currently unlit, and Marlow noticed traces on the floor where a sofa and two chairs had once stood. Apparently, they wanted to put him in the position of someone being reprimanded.
Chuckling, Marlow drew his wand and conjured a chair for himself — much more comfortable and bright red, clashing with the decor.
"How rude to cast magic in a house without the owner's permission. Weren't you taught etiquette, young man?" Walburga said disdainfully.
"It's rude to remove chairs from a study before a guest's arrival," Marlow replied. He was beginning to realize that conversation with these Blacks would lead nowhere useful. He'd already suspected as much from Bella's memories, but hope dies last. He examined Walburga, who had turned away, and Orion.
Walburga, with chestnut hair in a bun under a net, in a black dress and boots, looked decent for her forty-eight years and still retained traces of former beauty. But the lines on her face showed she'd spent more time frowning and sneering than smiling. For a witch, she didn't look great — the result of close family marriages. Walburga was Orion's third cousin.
Orion resembled Walburga, which wasn't surprising. But for the head of such a family, he didn't look authoritative or impressive. Short chestnut hair, pursed lips, a black three-piece suit, and a deliberate air of ignoring Marlow — Orion pretended to be busy. The oldest psychological trick: make the other person start the conversation, putting them on the defensive.
But the Blacks were mistaken — Arthur needed nothing from them. He decided to try talking, maybe to learn something about Voldemort, but with such an attitude, he had nothing to do here. He stood up.
"Well then, since I'm not welcome, I'll take my leave."
"Then why did you come?" Walburga asked, smirking. "You requested this meeting, gave Narcissa a trinket, and now you're leaving?"
"Requested a meeting? A trinket?" Marlow was genuinely surprised. "Do you really consider a magicoguitator a toy, and think I need something from you?"
"And why else would you come? People come to the Blacks for only two reasons: to marry into the family or get financing," Walburga said. "Perhaps you think that by marrying the daughter of that Muggle-lover Phineas, you've entered our family?"
"Do you think so too?" Arthur asked Orion.
"Yes, I think so," Orion replied, glancing at Walburga. Marlow found it amusing how much of a henpecked husband he was. "All sorts of beggars come to us for knowledge or wealth."
"So I'm a beggar?" Marlow asked, his voice silky.
"I didn't say that," Orion replied, but Marlow could see the lie.
"Well then, thank you for the reception," Marlow said, not bothering to bow. "Thank you for listening to me and my proposals. Now, I think I'll leave your hospitable manor."
He left, barely containing his anger. He'd expected this, but facing such disdain in person was hard, even for a mental mage. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and went — not to the exit, but to give Bella time in Availon. After a little performance with Dorothea, he strolled outside the manor for a while longer. He wouldn't need to make excuses to Bella later — he could just say it was Gaunt's request.
Outside, Arthur created solid illusions of himself and Dorothea, then summoned Sebastian, who teleported them to Availon. They wouldn't be missed for a while, and the house-elf would keep watch.
***
When Bella arrived by Portkey, she had her wand ready, prepared for anything. But instead of a trap, she found herself in an ordinary-looking house. For the first time, she actually enjoyed teleportation. She was still wary — maybe Marlow had tricked her — but everything was calm.
"Miss Black," Arthur's voice sounded from everywhere. Bella spun around, casting Homenum Revelio, but there was no one. "Calm down, I am Hal, the keeper and main magicomp of Availon. No one here will harm you."
"Suppose so," Bella said, straightening but not lowering her wand. "And what is Availon?"
"Look out the windows," Hal said. Bella looked through each window in turn — each showed a different world.
"Excellent illusion, so what? The ceiling at Hogwarts is just as good," she smirked.
"Open the doors, it's easier to see for yourself," Hal said. Bella skeptically approached the door with mountains and flung it open. Instantly, icy wind blasted her, and snow blew in. She slammed the door and cast a warming charm.
"What is this? Expanded space?" she asked, shivering.
"Think bigger — separate worlds, currently materializing, soon to be capable of expansion and development," Hal explained. "I'll summon the house-elves now, don't be alarmed."
"Why would I —" Bella began, but before she could finish, a fairy-tale elf in a maid's costume appeared, followed by a male elf in butler's livery. Only Hal's warning kept her from firing off a spell. She was on edge, and now she was in some incomprehensible world with real elves as house-elves. Even an ordinary wizard would find this hard to process, let alone Bella, who had just undergone mind restoration.
"Hello, guest, can we help you with anything?" Sebastian asked, bowing — not like ordinary house-elves, but with dignity and pride, like a butler of an ancient family. Hal had worked hard to correct the elves' characters and attitudes. Maybe it would have been easier to use a person, but such loyalty could only be achieved by brainwashing, which Marlow refused to do.
"Um, I wouldn't mind eating," Bella admitted. She hadn't eaten since arriving, and the restoration had drained her.
"What do you desire?" Sebastian snapped his fingers, and an enchanted menu appeared.
"And how long will I have to wait?" Bella asked, meaning cooking time.
"Not at all — these are all ready dishes," Sebastian said, snapping again to show another menu. "If you don't find what you want, Florentina will prepare something else. Cooking time: about fifteen seconds."
"How is this possible?" Bella asked, leafing through the menu. There was everything — the elves had been bored and prepared a huge variety of food, all kept in stasis.
"We are in a separate world, connected to ours by, let's say, umbilical cords," Hal explained. "Here, we can accelerate or slow time much more strongly. My master, Mister Marlow, is an expert in time and space magic."
"That must be convenient," Bella said. "I'd like the steak with cranberry sauce from unicorn tenderloin, salad from magical plants, and this 'special' apple juice."
"It will be done, esteemed guest," Sebastian said, and silver plates and cutlery appeared. Arthur loved silver for its ability to kill cursed creatures and bacteria. Gold and platinum seemed like excessive showing off. The problem of food cooling quickly on metal was solved by runes and charms.
Bella ate quickly but with perfect etiquette, savoring the food and the most wonderful juice she'd ever tasted. She asked Sebastian about it.
"This is juice from apples our master created as a child. His first masterpiece. One glass costs about five hundred Galleons. That's what Master of Potions Giulino Medici pays to enhance his potions."
"I'll pay if it's so expensive," Bella said. Even for her, a glass of juice for three average salaries was a lot.
"Don't bother, we have enough apples," Hal replied.
"Then why do you sell them so expensively?"
"We don't sell them, we just calculated the price for barter. Only our master can supply this ingredient. He's practically the only source of such a powerful potion enhancer. I hope I don't need to explain that this information is included in the contract?"
"No, you don't," Bella said, glad to learn something. It bothered her to be dependent on someone who knew everything about her while she knew nothing about him.
"I'd like you to go to the training facilities. You need to start practicing mental magic as soon as possible," Hal said.
"Why go somewhere?"
"Time moves a thousand times faster there."
Bella was more and more amazed by this house. She went to the training halls, putting on a circlet in addition to the diadem, like the one she'd seen on Cissy's head. Her sister had praised it, saying how useful it was. It connected her not with her copy, as Cissy had promised, but with Hal. It was extremely useful and sped up communication with this unknown spirit.
Seeing the circlet, she thought of her sisters. Did Andromeda know about her supposed fate, and was that why she ran away? How was Narcissa? The three sisters had too big an age gap — five years each — so they weren't close. Walburga didn't approve of close communication or open feelings.
Now, though, Bella wondered how they were. She understood Sirius's urge to escape, even at the cost of wealth and reputation. But soon, she had no time for such thoughts.
Hal gave her an artifact called a "librarium." The spirit could take the form of a solid illusion, but was initially afraid to frighten her with his semi-transparent appearance. The librarium allowed her to read countless treatises. Hal instructed her to read a compendium on Occlumency, Legilimency, and ancient mental magic — all knowledge Marlow had tested and found safe and effective.
There are motivated people, persistent people, and talented people. Bella was all three. She was motivated to keep her mind her own, stubborn even for a Black, and talented — she'd mastered Fiendfyre at sixteen. By the time Marlow appeared in Availon with Dorothea, Bella had advanced so much in the month that had passed in the training room that she finally understood: everything Arthur had told her was true.
***
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!