Seven Devils ★ T.M.R ★

Chapter Forty-Two

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THE COMING WAVE
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THE COFFEE SCALDED her tongue and Marina winced, returning it to its saucer and taking the opportunity to look around the crowded café again. It had changed a lot since she'd been there in 1948 – the old-fashioned tables and chairs had long been discarded, and the interior had been painted a brilliant turquoise blue that contrasted jarringly with the black-and-white checkered tile floor. A metal rimmed benchtop had been set against the street-facing windows where Marina was perched with her coffee, people watching intently.

There hadn't been time for much, but Marina hoped that Tom had gotten her message. Considering Muriel's house was already under the Fidelius charm and she was hardly able to send a bloody owl straight to Malfoy Manor, there was no way for her to contact him if he hadn't.

'Billy,' she'd hastily scribbled on a scrap of parchment as Mrs Weasley had frantically waved her over to the fireplace. '48,' she'd added underneath, before crumpling up the parchment and leaving it inside the mug Tom had given her on the bench, darting away to join the others who were already vanishing in flashes of green flames. It was the only thing she'd been able to think of at the time.

It had been over a week since they'd crowded into Muriel's narrow, very gaudily decorated London townhouse, immediately being subjected to Muriel's indignant censure at their haphazard and unsolicited arrival. A week of sitting in the same café they'd taken Billy Stubbs nearly fifty years earlier, waiting. Marina made the half-hour walk from Muriel's every morning to get there right before the café opened, and she left only when the waitress came over to tell her they were about to close. She'd sat there at the bench looking out onto the bustling London street, devouring book after book from Muriel's library, writing and doodling on countless bits of parchment and napkins, consuming entirely too much caffeine through her perpetual sipping of hot drinks.

The bell on the door beside her chimed and Marina's head whipped around – but it was only one of the other patrons leaving, holding his newspaper up over his head against the mild drizzle outside as he stepped onto the street. Marina sighed and looked back down at the book she was attempting to read, a very complex text about Alchemy that looked and read like it had been written in the sixteenth century – but that was what she liked about it. The fact that it was bordering on incomprehensible meant that it consumed almost her entire mental capacity to try to decipher it, drowning out the buzzing thoughts of her tired, anxious brain.

The days were passing torturously, and Marina did not use the term lightly. It was the 14th of April. As May grew nearer and she neither saw nor heard anything of Tom, her dread only continued to rise.

The bell tinkled again and she glanced up much more non-committedly as a group of cheery students entered. Marina watched them as they took their seats together at a table, shedding their scarfs and coats as they chattered with each other. It made her feel homesick, but she didn't know why.

"Marina."

Her heart stopped in her chest as she looked around swiftly. Standing in front of her, dressed in very non-conspicuous Muggle clothing that did absolutely nothing to diminish his strikingly handsome features, was Tom. His eyes were slightly wide as he looked at her, his hand still on the door which he held open as if frozen in place. Marina was out of her seat in an instant.

"You got it," she said breathlessly, throwing her arms around him with great relief, her eyes closing as his arms wrapped around her in return and the door swung shut beside them with another loud tinkle from the little bell.