By the handsome Swan Manor, there was a family grave. The family had counted too many dead than any religious graveyard in the town could bury.

At times when she felt lonely, Darya would go to grave, sitting there by the flowers, reciting poetry she had memorized for the dead. The stones in front of her engraved the names of her father, uncle, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Six feet below her, they laid, rotting. It reminded her that her last name was a curse.

Blood. Fright. Bodies. It all belonged to the Swans' honey-sweet tones. Simple words and beautiful songs would lead to love. Affection and lust would lead to death. It was a wonder how they had not gone mad yet, watching everyone they held in their shaking hands turn to dirt and dust.

The men cried; the men suffered; the men died. Water filled their lungs, and everything the Swans could do was hope that the ocean would carry their souls with the waves.

Darya wailed and broke. She had to live without love, being careful around everyone. She wanted no blood on her hands. No deaths in her name. She told it to them — the bodies lying under the ground — and cried and cried and cried.

Death is your friend — not one to fear. Death told her that herself. Death rounds us all up, sets us free, helps us start a new chapter. Death is only cruel to those around you. She won't hurt you — but your parents, friends, and children. You must not seek her. When she is needed, she will come, and you will not fear. Until then, you keep your course true.

The Swans weren't afraid of Death anymore. They kissed Death on the mouth every night, caressing her black wings. She was going to give them peace one day, but until then, she would only gift them pain by killing the men they loved.

Darya's knuckles were dug deep into the ground, now. She was filled with gentle anger. Her last name was a curse, but dear God, did it give her tears and grief of beauty.

"Darya?"

She turned. Behind her stood her sister with tears running down her cheeks. Her hair and blue dress were soaking wet, and she was shivering.

"Valerie? Where have you been?" Darya got to her feet and brushed off dirt on her dress. "Mum has been looking for you for days!"

"I'm sorry," Valerie answered, whimpers escaping her. "I did something bad..."

Fear ran through Darya as she stepped forward, trying to look for any injuries or broken bones.

"He saw it. He found me. Tom. He said he was your friend."

Darya rushed forward, grabbing her sister by the wrists, not letting her go. It was an act of concern, and she hated it. "What did you do, Valerie?"

And she pointed toward the ocean.

"He said he knew what I had done and that he was going to-"

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Valerie broke, falling into Darya's arms. "I did what Cordelia told us about before I left." She sobbed loudly. "I swam to the sailors and sang."

Darya turned completely stiff. "Where?"

"By the Antiquus sea! Oh, Darya, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. He took them — Tom took them and told me to go to you. He said you'd know what to do. Save them, Darya, please save them!"

She gathered all her strength and set off toward the lake that was found close to their home. Her feet throbbing with every step she took, she could feel her dress begin to tear up, but she cared little. If it was true what her sister said, and she had really sung to the sailors, they should be laying at the bottom of the sea, dead.

She grabbed her mother's arm when she got to the beach, "Mum, you have to transform me now. I have to swim."

Her mother let her hands trail over her pockets in search of her wand. Darya felt drops of sweat form on her forehead. The warm sunshine did not help her fast-beating heart and red cheeks. If only she were able to transform herself, she would have been in the cold sea already. She looked at her mother, who was only able to transform her because her husband, Darya's father, had died by drowning. She finally found her wand, holding it between her long fingers.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't have time to explain!" Darya panted.

Immediately, her mother pointed her wand, moving her hand in a triangle shape, muttering, "Syreni Voco."

The light which burst out of her wand hit Darya's legs. Before the transformation could start, Darya jumped out in the water, getting as far away from the beach as she could. She dove deep into the water when she changed into her Siren form.

The change was uncomfortable, yet not hurtful. Sirens take the form of a half-human with a fish's tail, becoming the epitome of beauty and grace. However, when a sailor goes into the arms of one, the Siren's face suddenly turns fangs-filled, and their tail sharp. They can use their mouth and tail as weapons to drag the sailor under the water. Darya could feel her fangs form under her tongue. She would never use them. Her sister had probably already done it.

Water passes across Darya's gills and out their slits located on the side of her chest and stomach. She soon formed claws that she could use to capture a possible prey more easily, and her digits fused together, forming webbed fingers. This made it easier for her to swim. Her tail also allowed her to speed swim with little restriction to water resistance. It was of a silver color with golden details, something she had despised when she was younger; her sisters had more colorful ones, and she envied them.

Darya was, without doubt, much stronger when in her Siren form — stronger than most humans. During special days of the year, like Beltane, Mabon, and Yule, she would get even stronger. That was when the Goddess of Nature labored especially for the Sirens and daughters of the oceans, giving all Sirens additional strength. But there were still many days left until Mabon, so Darya's travel went slower than her last one. The anxiety living inside her bones surely pressured her to act faster, though: her sister had hurt men, and Tom knew about it.

She imagined all the things he could do with the information. He had lots of power. With her anxiety shaking her, Darya swam toward Malfoy Manor, holding her wand in her left hand.

It was hard to get directly to the manor, but she arrived at a lakeside close to it, and dragged herself up to the beach. "Arcero Syreni," she whispered, pointing her wand at her chest. Slowly, her tail turned into two human legs, and her fangs and claws vanished. The gills would take longer to close and disappear, but she could still breathe on land.

Darya looked down. With adrenaline pumping through her, she had not noticed that her claws had teared up the skin by her hips. If she did not heal it soon, she would be left with large scars — but she didn't have time to heal anything now. She hoped the bleeding would stop, and used a drying spell to dry her clothes.

Before she knew it, she was standing in Malfoy Manor's Drawing Room, the Malfoys by her side.

She wasn't quite sure why she had gone to the manor. She supposed it was where Riddle went to work and plan his missions. He had talked a lot about the home when they were together, and it was where he had given Regulus his Dark Mark.

Regulus had been standing in the Drawing Room when he had gotten the mark. She felt sick thinking back to it.

"You're nervous," Narcissa said, looking at Darya. "You don't have to be. You're in good hands."

Darya doubted it. She had already told her that she needed to speak to Tom, and Lucius had called on him. All they had to do now was wait. She stood stiff and watched as Narcissa walked closer to her. The woman was much taller than her. Darya thought she was beautiful with her long, white hair and dark eyes. That was why her heart jumped when Narcissa reached out to touch her face. Quickly, she took a step back.

"May I?" Narcissa whispered gently, not moving at all. Darya took a step forward. Carefully, Narcissa caressed her skin, her cold fingers moving from the corner of her eye to her cheek. "I think you swam here. You have makeup running."

The elder woman pressed her thumb against Darya's chin, tilting her head upward. Darya looked at her face while her index finger traced her lips, wiping away lipstick that had faded. She could feel goosebumps rise.

Before she could thank her, a man walked into the room. Narcissa let go of Darya, and they both tilted their heads downward. But Darya could still see Riddle standing there, staring at her while gesturing toward the room he had just left.

Darya hurried to Riddle, and walked into the new room. She felt as if she had been waiting in line to talk to him, like how the patients at the hospital waited for their turns to enter their rooms and talk to her. He closed the door behind them, not taking his eyes off her.

"Turn around," he told her, "They're behind you."

Very slowly, she listened and turned — and regretted it immediately. Clearly, Riddle had no problem with standing in a room with three corpses.

"Valerie seemed to enjoy the kills," he continued while Darya looked at the dead men, tears forming in her eyes. "I found her in the sea, singing to them. Tell me, I must have missed something, miss Swan... for I can remember you Swans promising to never harm with your powers. I remember the women in your family telling the Ministry that you would not kill or hurt. So, why are three sailors laying here dead, while your sister is standing with blood on her hands?"

Darya tried to look away from the sailors. In anger, Riddle brought out his wand and pointed it at her. With a simple spell, her eyes were glued to the corpses. She was unable to move her head and was forced to look at them. Fear filled her. Riddle used to be gentle to her. Something had changed.

"When we are done here, I am sending my men to the Ministry," he told her. She cried out in panic. "They are going to tell the Minister about how the Swans have been killing innocent men, abusing their powers, and breaking their promises."

"Tom, please, no—"

"Lucius works at the Ministry, now, and has earned his trust there. No one will doubt his words. The Ministry will know about your murderous sister's acts before the sun sets."

Darya felt her whole body ache. He broke his spell, and she turned to him, trying to look at him through tears. Her shaking hands reached out to grab his collar in a desperate attempt at making him look at and listen to her.

"Please, don't! They're going to hurt us, take away everything we have!"

"Unless..."

"I'll do anything, Tom, please, I'm begging you! Valerie didn't mean any harm! She's just a child!"

A wicked smile crept on his lips. "Join me, then. Work for me, and I won't tell anyone about what she has done. I have the bodies here. If you join me, I'll hide them, and no one will know about them."

Desperate and panicking, Darya cried out, "Yes, I will! Just don't—"

"Hold out your arm, then."

She froze. Only then, did she realize what she had agreed to. She had spent the last weeks cursing every Death Eater's name, fearing the Dark Marks on their arms. Now, she had agreed to get the mark engraved into her own arm.

Abruptly, he found his wand again, pulled up the sleeve of her dress, and dug it into her skin.  "So, what will it be?"

"Just don't hurt my family."

He whispered something; terrible pain immediately ran through her left arm. It felt ice cold and burning hot at the same time. She wanted to scream, but no sound left her open mouth.

"The more you resist, the more it will hurt," he told her. He showed no emotion, but dug the tip of the wand deeper into her skin.

The result of his curse was a black skull on her skin, which looked much like a tattoo. Out of the skull's mouth came a long snake that moved down toward her hand. It was rich with details she could not see because of the tears.

I would never hurt anyone like you, Riddle had once told her. Now, he was smiling at the sight of her crumbling in pain.

"The bodies will be taken care of," he said when the mark was done forming. He put his wand back in his pocket. "If I need your help, you will be called upon through the mark. It will radiate, and you will come here as fast as possible. If you fail to do so, I will manage to find you at St. Mungo's or in Swan Manor."

He walked to the bodies, and then, he was gone with them. Darya stood still. Her arm was still burning. It felt as if it had been broken and torn up. If she looked at it too long, she could see the snake's head move. She clasped a hand over her mouth and gulped, feeling like she was going to throw up.

There was a knock on the door. When Darya failed to answer, the door pushed open. Narcissa poked her head in. Her dark eyes immediately landed upon Darya's arm, and her face twisted.

"I was wondering if you needed help to get home..."

She tried to put on a brave face and pulled down her sleeve as she walked to the door. They entered the Drawing Room again in silence. There were more people there, now: at least five men and two women. Darya guessed they were preparing for a meeting.

"Regulus wants to help you Apparate if you can't manage to do it."

Darya did not answer Narcissa. She stood beside her and watched Regulus approach them. He was dressed in a cloak, his dark hair falling in front of his face. He gave a weak smile to Narcissa before he reached out to touch Darya's hand.

She hated Apparating. The flashing colors and spinning made her feel even more sick. The travel lasted for far too long, Regulus holding so hard onto her hand that she was sure he was going to crush it. The pain she felt everywhere was getting too much.

The flashing lights ended. She heard the sounds of waves crashing. He had taken her to the shore by her house. Letting go of his hand, she stepped away, and looked toward her home. She wanted to rot on her bed and never see daylight again.

Her feet sank into sand as she walked away from him. He cleared his throat. "Darya? Does the mark hurt?"

She twisted her head. He could see her tears now. "How did you know he gave me a mark?"

"I could hear your screams," he said, his voice dark. She felt her heart sink. He stepped closer to her. "Show me it."

Letting more tears run down her cheeks, she ripped away her sleeve and showed him the mark. "Are you happy now, Regulus?"

His hand dropped into his pocket. He found his wand. "Look. If you move your wand in the shape of the skull, saying 'Detego Detectum', no one else will see your mark for the next hour. It will only be invisible to you. Can you try it, Swan?"

She found her own wand and pointed it at the mark. Her hand was shaking so badly that she was scared she would miss her arm if she tried to fire a spell at it.

"Okay, now, trace the skull."

Darya did as she was told. "Detego Detectum."

He waited for a few seconds. "I can still see it. Try again."

"Detego Detectum!"

For many seconds, the only thing she could hear was the sound of waves crashing against rocks. He was holding his breath.

Then, he spoke, "I can't see it anymore. You did it."

She hid her wand inside her dress. "Did you make the spell?"

He nodded. "The burning should stop soon. Good-bye, Swan."

He Disapparated away from the beach. While she sobbed and fell to her knees in pain, she wondered why Regulus had come up with such a spell. He had been so proud to show his family his Dark Mark during Midsummer Night. And now, he wanted to hide it.

"Detego Detectum." She repeated the two words again and again and again. If he spoke the truth, and her mark really turned invisible after she spoke the words, she would need to use the spell daily, in the hospital and at home.

She was afraid that the Dark Mark had become her greatest fear.