Magic //Peter Parker x Reader

The Tale of the Three Brothers

You point Peter's wand at the flames of the lamp in front of you, "Engorgio."

The flames suddenly flare up massively and Peter leaps back.

"AH! Reducio!" You shout.

As the flames subside, Peter pats down a small flare-up on the canvas of the tent.

"What's going on in there?" Michelle yells from outside.

"Nothing." The two of you shout in unison.

"Maybe a bit more practice? Heh." He smiles nervously and takes his wand out of your hand.

Michelle smacks back the tent flap, "We need to talk." She hold the Life and Lies of Stephen Strange in one hand and The Tales of Beatle the Bard in the other.

"Alright." Peter says. He glances at the books in her hand, "Good to see you were able to pick up where I left off. Have you read my notes?"

Michelle ignores him, "I want to go and see Thomas Wilson."

"Sorry?" You and Peter say in unison.

Michelle rolls her eyes and holds up a piece of paper, "See this? It's a letter Strange wrote. Look at the signature. It's the mark again. The mark you were writing about Peter. You saw it on ______'s parents graves, and _____ saw it in on a pendant around Mr.Wilsons neck." She turns the book in you and Peter's direction.

Strange had replaced the "A" in "Strange" with the triangular eye.

Michelle cracks open another book, "It keeps popping up here in Beedle the Bard. In the graveyard—"

Suddenly something flashes before your eyes: Figures turning down the narrowing alleyway it leads into a wand shop, and on the inside the triangular symbol is scratched crudely onto the wall.

You blink. It's over, "It was there too." You mutter.

"Where?" Michelle asks.

"Inside— this wand shop...on the wall..." you massage your scar that is flaring in pain.

"But what does it mean?" Peter mutters.

All of you look down at the symbol etched in Strange's fine handwriting in the book.

"______, you don't have a clue where the next stone is. And neither does Peter. But this, this means something. I'm sure of it." Michelle nods.

Peter grimaces, "______...I think shes right. I think
we need to talk to Thomas Wilson."
_

The sun hangs low over a hillside gloriously free of
snow. Michelle leads the way, far ahead of you and Peter who hang behind, your hands clasped together, fingers interlaced.

"You're not still mad at her, are you?" You ask.

Peter thinks for a moment, "I haven't forgotten what she did...but I have forgiven her...How about you?"

You shrug, "I'm always mad at her."

Deep down, you resented the fact that Michelle loved Peter. Or at least used to. The night she destroyed the locket, it was like she finally accepted that Peter had chosen you. It was like she had killed her own romantic love for him by killing the locket. At least that's what you hoped. And it ashamed you, because you didn't blame her for loving him. He was the greatest person you knew.

Suddenly in the distance, as you rise over a hill, an odd looking house appears in the distance, etched like a great black cylinder against the sky.

Seeing it, Michelle turns back, grinning as she calls
out, "Wade?"