Seven Devils ★ T.M.R ★

Chapter Thirty-Four

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DRÁKAVLOS OF KYRENAIKA
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"IT WAS ALWAYS going to be like this," said Tom.

Marina looked up from the basilisk fang in her hand, knowing what was coming next. "No," she said loudly, stepping away. "No, Dumbledore's wrong. There's a way to do this right –"

"Marina," Tom murmured with a patience that made her heart ache, head tilting. "You know it has to be done."

"I'm not letting this happen!" she exclaimed.

But Tom was suddenly much closer, his dark blue eyes right there in front of her, his hand gently closing around her wrist. He slowly lifted her hand, drawing it in towards him. "You can't change it," he whispered.

Marina tried to pull away but she couldn't move properly, her limbs weak like she'd just woken up. "Tom, please," she tried, shaking her head.

Tom ignored her, placing the tip of the fang against his own chest, his other hand coming up too, closing around her own. "It has to be like this," he said, not looking away from her.

Marina could see it now that she was closer, the fear in Tom's eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his long fingers were trembling slightly where they held hers.

"No," Marina whispered, but Tom just looked at her, tightened his grip, and pushed hard.

The fang slid easily into his heart, black ink erupting around on his shirt at once as a short, choking breath fell from his lips.

He fell to his knees and Marina went with him, his hands still holding hers to his chest. She was crying now, silent tears streaming down her face as Tom's head dropped, ink spilling from his lips, his eyes fluttering shut and his chest heaving as he tried to breathe. His grip on her hand became looser and looser, and she stared as the ink flowed over her fingers, staining them black.

"I'm so sorry," Marina whispered, going to pull back from his slack grasp.

"Don't go," Tom choked out at once, looking up at her in panic as he tried to hold onto to her harder. "I don't want to be alone."

Marina woke up with a jolt, her face wet with tears. She stared quietly at the dark ceiling of her room, her hair damp on either side of her face. She laid there a long time, trying to let the ache in her chest fade before eventually admitting to herself that it wasn't going to happen. Distantly she supposed that crying was better than screaming – at least this way she hadn't woken up Tom. She drew a hand across her face, wiping away her tears and taking a shaky breath as she curled over and pulled the blankets up over her head, drawing her legs up and hugging them.

The look she had seen in Tom's eyes haunted her until she finally fell asleep again.

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Marina thanked the store vendor as politely as she could over her own sinking disappointment and stepped out of the little book shop onto the broad, paved plaza outside. It was absolutely bustling despite the relatively chilly day, the crowd completely eclipsing Diagon Alley's meagre population. The Mediterranean wizarding community was in a much less dire state than that of England, and Marina's attention was constantly drawn by the delicious smells coming from packed food stalls, the bizarre animals milling around, and the different style of the robes everyone was wearing, mostly white with intricate and colourful trims.

She sped down the street towards the large amphitheatre that loomed at the far end of the plaza where her and Tom agreed to meet, distinctly aware that she was technically late. They'd been asking around wizarding Argos for a few days, but no one had anything to tell them – not even a hint of a whisper of a rumour of a legend pertaining to Herpo, basilisks, or anything sounding vaguely Horcrux-y.