Seven Devils ★ T.M.R ★

Chapter Sixteen

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CONCEDE AND CONSIDER
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MARINA TURNED THE page of her book and read the next paragraph intently.

'Parseltongue more heavily relies on intonation and context to express concepts, rather than other languages which combine specific vocabulary with grammar to convey meaning. This feature is why Parseltongue is so rarely taught successfully – those born with the natural ability to distinguish the minute tonal differences of the language have an immeasurable advantage over those attempting to find meaning in a relatively monotonous hissing sound.'

The passage's mentioning of natural born Parselmouths, like all those before it, reminded Marina of Riddle. Marina hadn't seen Riddle in weeks – as soon as they had gotten out of hospital, Dumbledore had sent him to stay with Moody, and had arranged a new job for Marina in Diagon Alley working in the Magical Menagerie. Verna, the stern, greying witch who ran the place didn't care that she couldn't do magic, only that she kept the animals fed and happy, and dealt with the odd customer when things were busy. Marina's lodgings had been relocated to a small room at the top of the Leakey Cauldron where her plant collection was scattered around the various spots that received the most sunlight.

Marina liked the shop, she liked the cats and owls, the rats and pygmy puffs, she especially liked the little bats with their pointy faces and fluffy bodies. She even liked Verna, in a way perhaps only Verna could be liked – her gruff, blunt exterior was reassuring, she said exactly what she was thinking, and you could always tell when it was break time because clouds of noxious purple smoke would come wafting past the back room where the old witch was sitting outside puffing on a long pipe. The shop was nice, exploring Diagon Alley was nice, her room at the Leakey Cauldron was nice, but something was missing.

Riddle had been right – she was lonely. It ate away at her in the slow, wilting way that loneliness does, slowly gaining the smallest centimetre of her heart each day. Being isolated from everyone wasn't helping, especially after her and Riddle had started having real conversations on the ward whilst they were stuck there.

Just then, the clock on the far wall of Obscurus Books chimed and Marina looked up in shock. She swore – she only had three minutes to get back to the other end of Diagon Alley. She wrenched herself from the chair and raced up to the counter.

"Just this, please," she said hastily to the shopkeeper.

"Finally buying it, eh?" he said jovially. "You've been pouring over that one for a while. What do we have here then" – he turned the book over, frowning when he saw the title – "'Parsing Parseltongue – Gift or Curse?'"

The shopkeeper gave her a piercing look. "Aren't you the Muggle who works at the Magical Menagerie?"

"Yes," she said shortly, bristling.

"What's a Muggle interested in Parseltongue for?" he asked suspiciously, ringing her up.

Marina handed him eight galleons. "It's interesting," she said defensively, taking the book as he handed it to her.

Ignoring the judgemental look he gave her, Marina sprinted out the door and out into the snow. Dodging the crowds, she hastened back to Magical Menagerie at top speed. She burst through the back door and called an apology to the owls who ruffled their feathers angrily at her reckless entry, hoping Verna the shopkeeper hadn't noticed her late return.

"Marina!" she heard the gruff witch call from the front shop.

She froze. "Yeah?" she called back with what she hoped was a convincing tone of nonchalance.