the seven devils [completed]

chapter twenty-one

"Exactly that, I am afraid," Varya answered with a smile, but her voice was as monotonous as possible. She did not know what she should feel towards the man, a conflict between gratitude and loathing, but right now, Varya was only empty. She stared at the man that had fought against her parents, who had, in some way, led to their demise and had cursed her with a life of misfortune. At that moment, Newton Scamander was no savior of the wizarding world, and she could not bring herself to be thankful for his actions.

"Fascinating," he mused, almost to himself, as if the rest of them were not even present. "Dumbledore did tell me that a Petrov witch was attending Hogwarts yet again, but I did not pay much mind to it at the time. You resemble your mother."

"Do I?" Varya said stiffly. "I would not know."

Of course, she suspected Newt would have attended Hogwarts at the same time as her parents, and would therefore know much more about them than her. And yet, his alliance had not shown any mercy when they were captured.

The silence that followed was syrupy, and Varya heard Abraxas Malfoy draw in an audible breath beside her, before taking a step forward. "Professor, I believe Mister Scamander would enjoy your magical tapestry, have you seen it?"

With that, the two older wizards made their way to the other end of the room, and for the first time since her arrival, Varya felt grateful for Malfoy's existence. Over the past few weeks, she had learned that while Malfoy was much more elusive than the rest of Tom's followers, he was also his most trusted companion.

The boy had natural defiance to him, something she had realized from the first day they had met, and commanded respect wherever he went. After all, the mere Malfoy name was enough to settle dread in the bravest hearts, a family so ancient and powerful that few dared defy them. Malfoy had a leading capability, and would often take over the reins when Tom would busy himself with other affairs.

On multiple occasions, it had been Abraxas that would deliver Varya the messages Tom would send her about their vacation plans, and it was also him who had given her somewhat of a background run on the families that would be attending.

She watched their backs retreat gracefully, then turned towards Tom, whose eyes were filled with intrigue. As always, he was a remarkable sight to look at, lips slightly parted and eyes mystified as he thought deeply.

"Sometimes, I forget you are the poster child for Grindelwald's crimes."

Varya scoffed at him, grabbing a wine glass from a passing tray and lifting it to her lips, "Thank you, Riddle, such lovely words you always mutter."

Tom hummed, then turned to watch the people in the room with a shrewd gaze. Varya could tell by the way that he was bitting his inner cheek that he was scheming, so Janus-faced it was almost repulsive. She could not understand how people could not see through his facade, but then again, had she not fallen for it as well in some way? Or, perhaps, it was precisely the fact that she could see his true form that captivated her, so entranced by the depravity between the Adonic face and luscious curls. He was a paradoxical being, the kind of inscrutability you would only read about in books, and it made him a complicated amalgam of runes that Varya wanted to translate.

"You should pester Scamander for information on Grindelwald," he said, suddenly, looking at her with determination alight in his azure eyes. Varya gave him an incredulous look, and so he scoffed, "He knows what is going on on the Ministry's side; he can give us a different perspective."

"What makes you think he will want to talk to me?" asked Varya, unsure of his suggestion. Scamander had not seemed pleased with her presence, although he had not made it obvious, she could tell from his reluctance to talk to her directly.