the seven devils [completed]

chapter twenty-five

 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Salazar Slytherin's locket swayed in the hazy glare of the early dusk as Varya Petrov stood on the Beauchamp's veranda, chin rested in one palm, and she gawked at the eccentric object, not knowing its origin. Once again, she was donning comfortable pants, having given up on wearing her refined skirts and ruffles, and a few older men bizarrely glanced at her. She wanted to hex their revolted expressions off of their faces, but there were certain spells even the Eastern witch could not get away with.

Della Beauchamp was across the street, helping a few children construct a snow fort, and Varya was reminded that the Ravenclaw prefect was only seventeen, and much more wholesome than she was. A small yawn left the witch, and she found herself sinking back on the steps and looking at the sky.

The sun had just fallen and was now standing above some of the snowed rooftops of the nearby houses, its pale beams hitting the spectral girl's face. They barely carried any warmness, but they were delightful, as the typical London climate had iced Varya's bones.

The girls had woken up early, as Della had been remarkably enthusiastic about opening the presents, and their morning had been filled with merry celebrations. To the Slavic girl's astonishment, Annie had gifted Varya a hand-made sweater, a muggle literature book, and a pair of black boots, which the girl was currently wearing proudly.

She had felt ashamed at not purchasing anything for either Beauchamp women from Diagon Alley, her mind too distracted by Tom Riddle's presence. However, they had both assured her that the mirror had been more than enough, the kind of gift that stood above everything else.

Varya peered at the book in her lap, Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy, and felt something akin to allegiance rise in her heart, as the novel described Imperial Russia, and it had awoken in the girl something that she did not know she had. The need for closure, the need to look into her family's past.

Perhaps, Rosier's party was where she should start, as many of the attendees would have known her parents, but a part of her still dreaded the event. She was scheduled to take a train from London to Paris tomorrow, and then, from Paris, she would take the Floo Network, as most of France was still under German occupation. Ren had sent her a letter a few days ago, and Varya had thanked Satan that she recognized his majestic owl, as Della had not gotten a chance to see it.

She felt shameful to deceive her hospitable friend in such a way, especially after having spent the first week of her Christmas break in her company, eating her food and sleeping on her floor, but in a way, it was for the better. The less Della knew, the less likely she would get hurt, and Varya could not bear to lose her.

"That is a marvelous necklace," Della gasped as she neared her, eyes trained on the locket. "And it is quite suited for a Slytherin."

Varya glanced at it again, holding it up, and grinned. Indeed, it was suited for a Slytherin, and the girl knew exactly which one. Even so, a part of her told her not to give it to the boy, almost like a gut feeling, and she was a girl that easily trusted her impulses. Instead, she found herself clasping it against her own neck, and grinned at how it stood against her protruding collarbone.