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Chapter 42
The Coming Wave

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Content warning: literal sex. For the love of god please note that the rating has changed to M because I asked if you wanted smut and literally all of you (across all sites) were like YES. Sorry to the one person who asked for things to not be so explicit, just blur your eyes and scroll really fast for that one part near the end, I love you.
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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.

"You shouldn't have done that," Tom said tersely, only barely returning her embrace. "If the Death Eaters had seen –"

"They wouldn't know what I meant," she mumbled dismissively into his chest.

Tom took her face in his hands and made her look at him. "Marina, you shouldn't have done that," he repeated, voice low and pressing, and his eyes hard. "You put both yourself and the Weasleys at risk for no reason."

"For no reason?" Marina repeated, dumbfounded. "Are you joking?"

"I am not a good enough reason for you to endanger your life," he whispered with visible agitation, pushing her back out of the way of the door to let people pass by them. "The Burrow had already been abandoned by the Death Eaters by the time I arrived, but if they had been less intent on destroying the place and had found your note –"

"Sorry," she frowned, a little put out. "I didn't really have a lot of time to –"

"You need to be more careful," Tom interrupted curtly, looking around warily as if half-expecting Death Eaters to descend upon them that moment. "We should go. Now."

Marina gaped at him, very taken aback by his brusque demeanour. "Where?" she asked, baffled.

Tom didn't reply, he just wrenched the door open again and stiffly stood aside to let her through. Marina stared at him in bemusement for a second, then seized her jumper and the Alchemy book off the bench and stalked past him out into the drizzle. He followed close behind her, hand coming to rest on her back as he assertively guided her off down the street.

"Tom – where are we –"

"Keep your head down," he muttered, not looking at her.

"Is someone watching us?" she asked, looking around the street in alarm.

"I don't know," replied Tom through gritted teeth.

He suddenly turned her into a small alley and not a second later Marina's stomach dropped as he Apparated them away. The rainy London street twisted around them and disappeared, replaced by a room as familiar as it was strange.

It was broad and airy, thick with dust and the smell of mildew. Feeble sunlight struggled to make its way through dense ivy overgrowing the tall, cracked windows draped in moulding velvet curtains. The furniture scattered around the room was overturned or askew, but the pieces had obviously been handsome in their time, and Marina's eyes fell upon a water-tarnished, dusty settee that looked like it had once been beautifully embroidered blue and yellow.

"Are we… in Riddle House?" she asked Tom, gobsmacked.

"The Dark Lord has long abandoned it," Tom said tersely, drawing his wand from the pocket of his coat and turning away. "No one will come here."

Marina narrowed her eyes as she watched him cast the wards, his lips a tight line. "Are you deadass annoyed at me?" she asked, irritated. After half a month of worrying about him, his behaviour was seriously rubbing her the wrong way.

He didn't reply, but something worked in his jaw.

"What was I supposed to do, Tom?" Marina asked loudly, throwing the book and her jumper onto the settee. "Go into hiding and not have any way of contacting you?"

"Yes," he snapped, rounding on her. "I can only assume that you and the others are somewhere under the Fidelius charm, the safest possible place for you to be – and you chose to jeopardise that for some ridiculous reason."

Marina's irritation grew. He did not, after all, appreciate exactly how close they were to the Battle of Hogwarts. "So sorry," she said sarcastically, "it's not like I haven't spent the majority of the past four months wondering if I'll ever see you again or anything –"

"Marina, if they catch you again they will kill you," Tom said sharply, taking swift steps towards her. "Do you understand that? The Dark Lord would break your mind and kill you. Do you really expect me to be able to stand aside and watch him torture you to death?" he continued heatedly, gesturing in agitation. "Do you think that I could follow his orders if he asked me to do it myself?"

"But the alternative was –"

"I would rather never see you again than see you dead!" Tom shouted, exasperation finally spilling over.

Marina fell very still, but Tom wasn't done.

"You cannot be so reckless! I thought they'd taken you again! When I finally got to the Burrow and found it like that – I thought –" Tom broke off, pressing his lips together hard, his eyes flicking between hers all tense and frenetic.

Marina waited for a brief moment and then took a step towards him, lifting her hands to his face. He expression faltered as her palms gently rested against his jaw. "Hey," she said softly, watching him carefully. "It's alright, I'm fine, I –"

Tom's arms came up around her and pulled her close, holding her very, very tightly. "Please don't do that again," he murmured, his fingers carding into her hair.

Marina didn't really know exactly what he was referring to, leaving him the note, being reckless in general, or maybe just nearly being caught by Death Eaters in the first place – not that it was entirely within her control – but she nodded anyway. He took a long, tense breath, and Marina pulled back to look up at him.

"Are you alright?" she asked him curiously.

Tom huffed a very weak laugh, raising his other hand to her cheek, grazing across her skin and making her feel warm and slightly dizzy. "I am now," he said quietly.

"Oh, you are happy to see me, huh?" Marina grinned playfully. "Geez, could have fooled me."

"Don't be cavillous, Marina," said Tom, rolling his eyes.

"Fuck," she whispered, shaking her head fondly. "I can't believe it… I've actually missed the way you use the most insane, overly esoterical words…"

"Would you like me to define that one for you?" he smirked at her.

"Jerk," she snickered, before remembering something. "Hey – did you see what happened with Harry and the others at the Manor?"

"No, I was with the Dark Lord in Austria," Tom said carefully, a frown slowly pulling his brows together. "They had already escaped by the time we arrived."

"Austria?" she frowned, surprised.

"He commanded that I accompany him to Nurmengard to interrogate Grindelwald," said Tom in the same tone, "and he had me join him to Hogwarts after he realised that the Death Eaters had let Harry slip through their fingers."

"Why did he take you?"

"I believe he intended me to witness a demonstration of his power, flaunting the long-sought prize he intended to collect. Whether for self-aggrandisement or intimidation, I don't know." Tom said, watching her closely. "Marina – he broke into Dumbledore's grave… and took his wand."

Marina nodded sullenly, looking down.

"You knew," Tom said quietly. She glanced up at him, surprised at his strangely reproachful tone. "You knew of the Elder wand months ago, I remember you mentioning it to me in jest when I first returned to the Burrow, though I didn't understand at the time…" he continued evenly. "You knew that he was looking for it this whole time."

"Yes," Marina said slowly, searching his expression.

Tom's gaze was much too composed. "You didn't tell me."

Marina's eyes narrowed again. "You're the one always telling me to keep things like that to myself, Tom," she said coolly. "Not going to pull a double standard on me now, are you?"

Tom gave a curt sigh through his nose, looking conflicted. "With the Elder wand he will be unstoppable," he muttered.

"Oh, just like how he's immortal?" Marina snorted. "He's only unstoppable until he's stopped, Tom, just like he's only immortal until he's dead."

Tom was quiet for a moment, and then – to her surprise – laughed softly again. "I can't believe it," he said dryly, "I've actually missed the extemporaneous, overly idealistic way you see the world."

"God, shut up," she smirked.

Tom just leaned in and Marina's breath caught as his lips suddenly covered hers, her mind going blank at the warmth of his mouth. She leaned up onto the balls of her feet, her arms around his neck pulling him closer, kissing him harder and hearing him take a heavy breath as she did so.

It wasn't as if they'd stayed entirely platonic when he'd been coming to stay at the Burrow, but heat pooled in her stomach as Tom's hands tilted her head to kiss her more deeply and she felt them slipping into decidedly dangerous territory. Feeling both very brave and very reckless, Marina gently brushed her tongue across his upper lip. Tom pulled back at once, staring down at her in surprise – but with a heat in his dark blue eyes that made her heart thud excitedly in her chest, hoping that it was an omen that very good things were about to happen to her.

She was correct. Tom surged forward, capturing her mouth with his, his arms around her as she kissed him back as hard as she could. She delved her hands into his hair, not holding back anymore, tracing his lips with her tongue and feeling a thrill when his met hers too, the dizzying shift away from control as waves of heat rolled across her body and –

Marina broke the kiss. "Tom," she managed to say, a little out of breath. "This – should we – this house is…"

He just looked at her, his expression raw and open, the waves of his black hair mussed from her ravaging touch, heat in his dark eyes and his lips slick, a delicious warmth ever so slightly colouring his cheeks.

Fuck.

Instantly defeated Marina leaned in and kissed him with such enthusiasm that he was pushed back a step, and she took advantage of the momentum to keep stepping forward until his back hit the wood-panelled wall behind them with a little thump, a breath knocked from his lips. She stepped between his legs at once to press in closer and Tom's hands came up to cup the back of her head, her skin burning as his tongue coaxed her mouth open to kiss her deeper. Distinctly wondering what the fuck she'd gotten herself into, Marina slid her hands down Tom's chest, breathing slowly at the addictive feeling of his body beneath her palms. She curled her fingers under the edge of his jumper, heart thudding hard as she brushed against the warm skin of his stomach.

"Tom," she said, pulling away.

"What?" he breathed, looking a little dazed.

Marina tugged pointedly at his jumper. "Will you get mad at me if I take this off?"

He blinked. "Get mad at you?" he repeated blankly.

"Yeah," she grinned, leaning up right against his lips. "Will you get mad at me if I take your clothes off?"

Tom was still for a moment, staring at her – then he shook his head. Marina reached up and pushed his coat off of his shoulders at once, leaning in to kiss him as he shrugged it off and it fell to the ground at his feet. Her hands immediately went to the bottom of his jumper and tugged it up too, but Tom took hold of the collar behind his neck and broke the kiss to pull it off himself, taking his shirt with it in one smooth movement that left his hair wonderfully tousled.

Marina paused, captivated by his sudden half-nakedness. He was gorgeous, almost ethereal, smooth planes of unbroken skin with no marks and not even one freckle, muscular and lean with collarbones that immediately drew her attention, his hips casting angled shadows that disappeared beneath the line of his trousers that were extremely difficult to look away from. Marina slowly slid her hands up his sides, not missing the way he drew in a breath at her touch.

She looked up at him. "You are absolutely beautiful," she said quietly.

Tom's eyes flickered slightly. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he took her face, even as he kissed her hard, and Marina's pulse raced as she let her palms travel across his chest, his shoulders, his back – but right as she felt the kiss getting more heated, his mouth was suddenly gone from hers. Tom lowered his head and pressed his lips under her jaw, apparently aware of the effect it would have on her because she felt his warm breath of a laugh as her head immediately fell to the side.

"You know, I used to consider you quite difficult to read," he murmured against her skin. One of his hands dropped from where he'd been cupping her face to slide around her waist and draw her closer, making Marina's thoughts swirl as she pressed against his chest. "I've changed my mind," he said softly, lips brushing against her neck and sending shivers across her skin. "You're the easiest person to read I've ever met."

"Yeah well, I'm not exactly trying to keep it subtle right now, am I?" Marina stammered with great effort.

Tom stepped forward and smoothly swapped their positions before she even knew what was happening, his lips still moving down her neck as her back hit the wall. The gentle brush of his teeth against her skin made her stifle – with only marginal success – an audible reaction, and Tom paused at once, lifting his head. The intensity of the dark heat in his eyes made her heart stutter, and Marina watched, unable to move as he slowly lifted one forearm to rest on the wall above her head, leaning in close enough to kiss her but stopping at the last second.

Tom's other hand pressed softly against her cheek, lingering there for a second before slowly gliding down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, her breath catching as his palm slid down the swell of her chest, her waist, her hip – and then she froze. His hand had stilled on her thigh, resting on the skirt of her sundress like a question as he looked down at her with hooded eyes, waiting, watching.

Trying very hard not to tremble, Marina pulled him forward, kissing him with equal parts nervousness and anticipation, her heart pounding hard as he slowly pulled her dress up. The first touch of Tom's fingers on her thigh made her gasp slightly against his mouth, and he let out a tense breath through his nose as his lips moved on hers, gentle and very steady. His fingers traced higher, and she felt a hot surge of nerves and pleasure in her stomach. Marina thought that if he hadn't been pressing her against the wall, her knees would have collapsed.

"Tom," she breathed, breaking the kiss.

His hand stilled at once. "Yes?" he said, and oh god – his voice was transformed into something low and wanting.

"Are you – do you –" she tried, not sure how to phrase the question.

He just looked at her, his gaze filled with a heavy heat that made it difficult to remember exactly what she'd been trying to say.

"Are you sure?" she managed to get out. "About – about this?"

Tom gave his breath of a laugh and leaned back in to kiss her again. "Yes," he said softly, right against her mouth. "Are you?"

Marina nodded, unsure if any sound would come out if she tried to speak again.

Tom blinked, eyes falling to her mouth, but he didn't kiss her. He leaned in close, forehead gently resting against hers as his hand on her thigh went higher. She took in a long breath as he brushed the hollow where her leg met her hip, followed the flat of her stomach around, and oh my god is this really happening, is this real –

His fingers traced ever so gently across the top of her underwear, his eyes burning on her face. She nodded like he'd asked her a question, and he pushed his fingers underneath, his head tilting to her.

"Have you been waiting for this, Marina?" he said quietly in her ear.

That's not fucking fair, she thought, her eyes fluttered shut at the sound of his voice. He can't talk to me like that too, that's not fucking –

"Shall we find out?" he asked, leaning down to softly kiss her shoulder, right as he curled his fingers.

A truly obscene noise came from between her lips as pleasure erupted across her entire body, his fingers sliding with ease – of course they do – and Tom let out a quiet, very controlled breath.

"You were," he murmured against her skin, and Marina couldn't even open her eyes, the feeling of his touch dominating her every thought, the sound of his voice sending shivers through her, and Tom was moving his fingers and –

A sound she didn't know that she could make escaped her, her whole core on fire with his touch. Tom raised his head from her neck to lean his forehead against hers again, head rolling to the side slightly like he was trying to hear every part of it, and Marina was captivated, unable to think, unable to see, writhing under his touch as he slowly built her up.

"I've wanted to do this for some time," he said softly, and Marina heard the same sound come unbidden from her, unable to stop it. "To see you like this," he breathed, lips lowering to press under her jaw again.

The combination of his fingers, his words, and the ever gentle brush of his lips and teeth on her skin sent the hot feeling in her stomach into bloom, and her breath caught as his fingers slid insistently, relentlessly, drawing from her that swelling feeling that grew and grew, and –

"I want to watch you come undone," he whispered smoothly in her ear, "I want to watch you lose control around my fingers –"

"Tom," she choked out as the feeling continued to swell, unable to stop it anymore, she could only let it take her over as his fingers moved on her, grasping at him just for something to hold onto.

"Look at me," he commanded quietly, and Marina opened her eyes.

Tom's eyes had gone black, watching her gasp beneath his touch from where he leaned over her, calm, attentive, and hungry. The swelling feeling reached its brink and broke like a wave, her head falling back against the wall as it crashed over her, eyes closing without thinking and Tom was right there, lips on hers like he wanted to consume all the sounds she was making. It went on and on, finally dulling and leaving Marina trembling, her head falling forward against his chest as she heaved breaths in, dizzy and pulse racing, holding onto him to stop her knees from giving out.

She felt Tom's palm against her cheek and let him lift her face, kissing her unbearably softly.

"Tom," Marina murmured, still slightly dizzy.

He hummed, brushing a bit of her hair behind her ear as his eyes roamed her face contemplatively.

"When do you have to go?"

Tom frowned. "Sooner than I should like," he said quietly, "but not right now."

"Good," she said, letting her hands slide down his chest and come to linger on the waistband of his trousers, toying with it, watching him expression closely.

Tom's eyes widened slightly. "What are you doing?" he asked quickly – but his eyes were blacker still, blown out by desire.

Marina held his gaze as she slowly knelt, watching with deep amusement and satisfaction as his eyes grew wider. When she slid her fingers around to the button of his trousers, his hand caught her chin and tilted her face up to look at him from where she knelt before him.

For a moment they stayed there, looking at each other, and a flicker of doubt passed over her.

"Would you like me to stop?" she asked softly.

Tom let a very long breath from his nose, seeming unable to look away from her face. "No," he said quietly.

A low heat swelled in Marina's stomach. When she lowered her face from his hand, he let her slip from his fingers without resistance.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Marina sighed loudly, flopping back on the bed and staring at the tall, cobwebbed ceiling of the room she shared with Charlie and Ginny at Aunt Muriel's. She lifted her hand and stared at the fat, golden Galleon in her hand, turning it over again and again. Tom had told her that it would grow hot when the Portkey charm was going to activate, when she could see him at Riddle House again, but currently it was only warm from her own body heat – she had rarely put it down in the last two days, its shape now so familiar in her palm that its absence felt foreign.

Her thoughts turned (as they so frequently did) to the last time she'd seen him, her stomach flipping and her cheeks warming as if on principle. It had been unexpected, but she would be lying if she tried to tell herself that she wasn't hoping for a continuation when they finally met again.

"Marina?" came Charlie's voice accompanied by a light knock on the door.

She sat up. "Yeah?"

"Muriel's asking if you can clean the upstairs windows again," he said in deep amusement, poking his head through the door. "She also requested that I add –" he cleared his throat theatrically and continued in a very good impression of Muriel's grumbling, gravelly voice, "– if she's so insistent that Muggles are just as capable as wizards, why does she leave streaks on the glass when a simple cleaning charm does not?"

Marina snorted. "Well bloody tell her to go use a cleaning charm, then."

"You tell her that," Charlie snickered. "She's in a foul mood, so good luck."

"Why this time?" she rolled her eyes.

"Bill wrote again," he said, sitting down on the end of her bed and lying back with his hands behind his head. "He says Ollivander and Griphook will be coming to stay here when they're more recovered and Muriel's peeved about it – not the biggest fan of goblins, old Muriel."

"Ollivander and Griphook are coming here?" Marina demanded, leaning forward intently. "When?"

"He didn't say," Charlie frowned, "why?"

Marina's thoughts raced. If the book was anything to go by, Ollivander and Griphook would have been there during Harry, Ron, and Hermione's capture and escape at Malfoy Manor. More importantly, they will have spent the last few weeks at Shell Cottage holed up with them listening to them plan the Gringott's break for Hufflepuff's cup.

"Can I see the letter?" she asked quickly.

"It's already been destroyed," Charlie said, peering at her curiously. "What's gotten into you?"

She exhaled stiffly. "Just interested in what they have to say," she said dismissively, looking down at the coin in her hand.

"Is this to do with Tom?"

Marina glanced at him. "Partly," she said honestly.

He gave her a pointed look. "Marina."

"What?" she bristled defensively.

"Just – be careful," Charlie said slowly.

"You're not gonna join in with Tom telling me I should just give up and let him die, are you?" she asked in a brutal tone.

"No," he frowned, "I was meaning that you need to be careful with what you know about the future. Dumbledore was pretty concerned about you derailing the entire world by trying to continually change things, wasn't he?"

Marina deflated. "Oh," she said awkwardly. "Right. Sorry."

"But on the topic," Charlie continued with a very bad attempt at nonchalance, "I was talking to mum about that the other day…"

"And?" she narrowed her eyes.

Charlie gave her a measured look. "Look," he said quietly, sitting up. "Everyone knows you don't really think Tom's going to die, Marina."

She stared at him. "Yeah, obviously," she scoffed.

He didn't laugh with her. "You need to consider it."

"Excuse me?"

"You need to consider it seriously," he repeated, frowning again. "Mum agrees – if you go into this completely sure nothing bad's going to happen to him, you're going to be devastated when things go wrong and –"

"If," Marina interrupted sharply. "You mean, if things go wrong, not when."

There was a ringing silence.

"Just be careful," Charlie said again, "we're at war, Marina, sometimes people don't make it even when you really want them to. Even when they're people you really care about."

Marina pressed her lips together and looked away. She knew he was right but she was angry with him for saying it anyway.

"I'll be downstairs if you want to talk," he said quietly, standing.

She nodded stiffly, not looking around until after she heard the door click shut. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes, safe to appear in the empty room where no one would see them.

There were only two weeks left. Should she tell Tom? Could she somehow let him know that time was running out without giving away that the final battle was around the corner? Could she do something to stop it? 'There is much more outside of your control in the world than inside it,' Tom had said to her once. Marina gripped the coin tightly in her hand, willing it to grow warm with all her soul. But it didn't.

In that moment it felt like nothing in the world was in her control at all, like she was standing alone in front of a great wave, powerless to stop it breaking against the shore, watching it rage closer and closer, knowing that she'd drown in it once it consumed her.

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A/N: Pls offer any feedback you have re: salaciousness, I've never posted adult content before so lemme know what you think - if it's terrible I'll purge it from the internet and we can all agree to never mention this again :)
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