As Atria tucked silently into the feast, she saw all the happy faces of everyone else.
"What's with the tears?" a girl, Ginny asked.
"They're happy tears," Atria said.
"The first tear if they were happy tears would have come from the other eye, a study proves that," Ginny said. "What's up?"
"They're happy tears!" Atria insisted stubbornly. She wanted nothing more than to run out of the hall and away. She wanted to go home. The trouble was, Atria didn't have a home. Sure, she had a house, but that's not a home. She had nowhere to go. Atria was sick of everything. She'd hoped Hogwarts would be home, but there's too much suspicion. Especially after her name was called out.

"Lestrange-" the professor was cut off.
"Did she say Lestrange?" people were hissing.
One Hufflepuff, Zacharias Smith, took it too far. He shouted, "Oi! Murderer, there's no place for you here."
Atria could have died of shame. She could have burst into tears. Luckily, she managed to keep up her obedient public face.
"Ahem," the headmaster said to no avail.
McGonagall knew better, she raised her voice as loud as she could, "Silence!"
"Lestrange, Atria."

It would be nice here, thought Atria, maybe if I got everyone to know the truth, I could enjoy it. That was when she decided something, she would no longer be someone she's not. Now, she would be herself. She jumped up from her bench, before she could stop herself. She ran up to the teachers table and raised her voice.
"You lot!" she called. Each face of student or teacher, mirrored the confusion from the next. Never had a student stood up to speak to the whole school. There was something off with this Lestrange girl. She suddenly saw just how many people she was addressing. She gulped, but gathered the courage to continue, " I'm Atria Lestrange. You all judged me the second you heard my name. I can't say I blame you. After what Bellatrix, and I refuse to call her Mum, did to your families, I understand. I want you to know though, that I'm not like that. I am just an ordinary eleven year old, tortured daily and branded-" she rolled up her sleeve and gasps echoed through the hall "- I guess I'm not an ordinary eleven year old, but I'd like to be. I'm broken scarred, I'm suffering, and I won't let you go through that. I understand if you still choose not to trust me. But please, please, believe me when I say, I'm not a murderer. I'm not evil."
By the end, Atria's face was completely stained with tears, as were many others in the hall. She ran back down to sit next to Ginny again.
"Told you they weren't tears of happiness."