<07>
Wanda
On the morning of my 17th, I stood propped up against the sink, my hands gripping the outer rim with a dangerous sort of vigour. I squinted at the shining surface of the mirror, barely seeing the white-faced and trembling reflection that was the product of the reoccurring dream that had shook me from sleep once again, and instead was pumping my mind out of my body, sweat beading along my upper lip and temples as scarlet red pulsed behind my eyes.
The sink was vibrating, the ceramic groaning in protest –
"Mama! Papa!" screamed a girl's voice. "Pietro!" –
I bit into my lip, shouldering out the memory, until I tasted blood. I'd seen something just a minute ago, in the mirror, something to go with the flaming fire-like curls. A claret headpiece – like a devil's crown...
"SIRIUS!" –
STOP.
The noise in my head grew frantically loud.
"CAN YOU HEAR HIS MIND?" –
STOP IT!
My eyes were throbbing with my magic, my heart pounding deafeningly in my ears as I bared my teeth with the effort of what I was trying to do. I could feel it around me, like a full-body blanket. Warmth, safety – deception.
A scream. Green eyes and red hair. A soft, accented whisper. The crown and smirk of power. Me. It's me again.
I blink.
The mirror shines in the morning sun and the steam of the shower room settles around me, onto its glassy surface. My hair is golden brown once more and soon my reflection is hidden behind the blur of condensation.
I let go of the sink and step back, panting.
"ебать." I groan, closing my eyes.
My head pounds in the silence and I run my fingers through my wet hair, I have so many reasons to be strong today – so many reasons to be alive and remember.
I only wish that they could too.
<<>>
A heavy amulet hangs from a silver chain around my neck, a gleaming ruby at its centre. The metal around it folds out like a flower and glints in the sunlight trickling through the owlery window as I scrawl a thank you letter to Molly, Arthur and the twins for my gifts.
I can feel it there at all times. It seems to burn a hole through the material of my new quidditch shirt and forge with my skin, its weight always against me now.
"You alright?" Harry asks, after minutes of unbroken silence.
I pass Nexus the letter and face him as she launches herself into the air and vanishes from sight. His eyes are watching me carefully and my hands dart to the amulet again. "Yes."
He frowns. "What is it?"
I look away from his gaze and sigh, slipping into the darkness of the narrow, spiralling staircase descending back to the main part of the school. Our breath condenses in front of our faces from the chill of early morning and I rub my arms against the cold, hearing his footsteps behind me.
"I just..." I begin, feeling my throat tighten, and glance back at him as we break into the warmth of the seventh floor again. "I just don't understand why he would wait so long to give me this. I've... needed it before now."
My hands have closed around it again and I'm overcome with longing. If I'd've known, that after all this time, there was something left of them... It has torn me apart to believe that every shred of them was erased in that apartment six and a half years ago, that not a single scrap of who they were remained in this world.
But it wasn't true. My mother's amulet remained. Why would Dumbledore keep it from me for all this time?
"Dumbledore does everything for a reason." Harry answered softly.
I struggled to keep my head from shaking as anger – and magic – roiled in my stomach. "Does it not piss you off that your entire destiny has already been decided- has been decided for years... and you only found out 2 months ago?" I hurled at him, "That Dumbledore knew everything and yet said nothing until it was too late? That it took being lured by Voldemort and finding out yourself before he even said anything?"
Our pace has slowed and the steps feel further and further apart as I stomp down them, my head pounding.
Harry looks at me, his green eyes glimmering – yes, there is anger there, and he is trying his best not to show it. "It's not Dumbledore's fault-" he tries quietly, but there is no real conviction and I cut him off easily.
"It took someone else dying for you to be told!" I cried. We had both now stopped walking and my right hand gripped the banister tightly, my rings trembling against it. "You can't tell me that you're okay with that! Like you're not angry!" I shouted.
Harry flinched and his jaw twitched.
"I'm sorry." I countered immediately, catching my breath. Something about saying it all out loud made it 100 times worse. "I'm just-"
A rough barge to my shoulder cut me off and I stumbled on the stairs, catching myself on the banister and fighting a gasp. Someone laughed and heat boiled deep inside of me, I knew the laugh, knew who would be waiting for me when I looked up, and yet... I lifted my chin to meet the glare of Draco Malfoy anyway.
"What up, Maximoff?" He sneered, pale eyes glinting.
Harry climbed the stairs between us and put two hands on my arm as I snarled in response. Blood thumped against my eardrums and heat pooled in my hands, it took every ounce of strength in me to keep the red from my eyes.
Tame the beast.
Tame the fricking beast.
"Get lost, Malfoy," Harry hissed, his hand reaching into his pocket.
Draco cocked his head to the side, ignoring Harry, his smirk widening as his eyes flicked to the Holyhead Harpies badge on my new shirt, he sniggered. "Nice shirt – how'd you get your hands on that? Nick it?"
I made a furious move forwards but was stopped by Harry's weight. "She sold a few posters of your loser father in Azkaban." He snarled and Malfoy's face went white with rage.
"How dare you..." Malfoy hissed, his voice tremoring dangerously. They'd both drawn their wands before a second had passed and spells shot out from either wand tip, hissing through the air like a couple of vicious snakes. "Incarcerous!"
"Stupefy!"
The spells collided and went haywire, flashing spectacularly as they exploded back outwards. Harry shoved me downwards, out of the way of Malfoy's hex, his wand still aloft.
"You'll be saying a lot more than that when I catch you," Harry says quietly, straightening up. Malfoy's face blanches further and I glance at Harry, the rage vanishing.
"Harry-"
"You and your little secret..." he murmurs in an undertone.
Draco leaps forward but I drag myself to my feet and press a hand to Harry's chest, shoving him backwards. My hand raises at Malfoy, just an empty hand ... my body has gone unexplainably cold. "Alright, alright – stop-"
Malfoy staggers, inches from me with his wand arm still outstretched. He's panting and several muscles in his jaw twitch as he glowers at the boy behind me, his eyes wide with... panic?
My lips part as I attempt to breech his mind, but the rings clamp down and a dull throb skitters through my brain. I shiver and he suddenly steps back, his eyes gleaming.
"Scum." He spits, shoving his wand roughly back into his pocket.
He then pivots on his heel and stomps down the staircase, out of sight.
The moment his figure vanishes, the heat rushes back and my heart thunders wildly. "What the hell?" I murmur, spinning to face Harry who is scowling behind his glasses.
"Malfoy." He answers, pushing himself upright and avoiding my stare.
"Malfoy," I repeat, nodding as I wipe at my nose. "You're going to get yourself killed if you're not careful, he's not the same kid-"
"Yes, I know," Harry interrupts, yanking me to his side by the hand. "That's what I'm trying to tell everyone!"
As we begin descending the staircase again, my heart begins to thunder. There is heat in my cheeks and a soul-consuming worry burning its way up my throat as I regard him – not him too, I can't lose him. "You've got to leave it," I beg in a whisper, "Please."
His eyes meet mine but he doesn't say anything. And I know he won't.
"I have another present to give you later," he says, as we approach the entrance to the Great Hall. Mouth-watering smells flood the Entrance Hall from the breakfasts waiting inside, a warmth like hot steam reaching out towards me, making my stomach rumble. "It's just a small thing, but I didn't want to give it as your main present – it seemed self-absorbed."
I frown, "What do you mean?"
He shrugs and his eyes wander over to where Ron and Hermione are visible, bickering, at the Gryffindor table with Ginny and Dean a few seats down. He glances at his feet and mutters, "It's just something to show you how important you are to me. Even if we don't always agree."
The words take me off guard and I smile at him softly, "Thank you, I-" I reply, "I look forward to it."
<<>>
Later on, after a relatively normal day, we lounge underneath a willow tree by the black lake, its rippling surface like molten lava as the evening sun streaks across it.
Across from me, Hermione sits upright, a book in her lap and hair in her face, instinctively dodging the stray bits of parchment that Ron is throwing in the air, presumably from his homework, and sighing contently every so often as she reads a new bit of information that catches her attention.
Harry is laid flat on his back in my peripheral vision, with a book on his face, dozens of flutterbugs buzzing around under the shelter of leaves and glinting as stray shafts of light break through the single-tree canopy and scintillate off of their shining abdomens. I watch them from my position leant against the tree trunk, my front teeth digging into my lips as I stroke the gleaming ruby resting on my chest, over and over, thinking of who it belonged to - of her silky hair and warm embrace. Of the smile always in her voice and the gentle sparkle in her eyes...
"Oh, Wanda- I haven't given you my other present, yet." Harry says, suddenly sitting up and digging into his bag as Advanced Potion-Making slides down his chest. I jerk my head towards him, wrenching my mind out of memories. "Here - put it on."
He tosses something small and black towards me - a bracelet - I realise as I catch it in my hands. He smiles as I slide my hand through it, pulling the strings to tighten it. I gasp as it digs into my skin and the scenery before my eyes immediately changes.
The gentle tangerine glow of the grounds brightens into bursting sunlight and the mild October air became baking hot as the bracelet clicked into place. The sky above me was no longer a simmering pink and orange and now resembled that of a day in the peak of summer, barely a cloud in sight to break up the pristine forget-me-not blue with the golden sun swelling proudly straight ahead. The air around me smelt of flowers and soil and was suffocatingly hot as my lungs- Harry's lungs, I realised with a jolt of surprise- dragged in the sluggish air.
The sounds of the muggle news drifted through the open window above my head, sounds that Harry was barely listening to as his mind throbbed with boredom and the dire need for a drink. His throat was dry but he had no motivation to move, he was angry and frustrated, he missed his friends but he was also furious with them – no one, no one at all, had bothered to tell him what was going on, Ron and Hermione sending pointless letters and birthday gifts - all of which he'd guiltily thrown away - and Wanda hadn't written at all. Yes, Harry was very angry at them – especially Wanda.
"-and where is the boy anyway?" came the rumble of Harry's Uncle from inside of the airconditioned house.
"Out of the house." was his aunt's reply.
Vernon Dursley harrumphed and muttered "Good - foul child."
Harry remained in the flowerbed, seething, until a knock at the door beyond Aunt Petunia's hydrangeas recaptured his reluctant attention.
"Who the ruddy hell goes out in a heatwave?" Uncle Vernon demanded indignantly, and his heavy footsteps thundered out of the living room and down the hallway a moment later.
Harry listened to the sound of the front door unlocking, biting the insides of his mouth as anger re-bloomed - how he'd love to lock Uncle Vernon outside in a heatwave and pretend he didn't know where he was.
"Hi, I-"
"We aren't buying anything, get off the drive." Uncle Vernon barked, interrupting the soft growl of a familiar voice; Harry sat bolt upright, adjusting his glasses.
"I'm not selling anything," snapped the voice and Harry scrambled to his feet. "I wanted to know if Harry was in."
"Harry-?"
"Wanda!" Harry yelled, forgetting completely just how mad he was with her and trampling through the flowerbeds towards where his friend was standing, arms folded and glaring at Harry's humongous Uncle.
"Harry!" she breathed, a smile breaking out on her sun-warmed face. Her hair was partially tied up and the curls fell over her bare arms, every inch of her skin a soft brown from the sun and glittering as its golden beams flowed over her.
The relief flooding through Harry's veins made him believe that he was hallucinating, the misery he'd felt all summer had been so soul-consuming; it couldn't be true.
"I've missed you so much!" she said and Harry's insides soared.
"Excuse me - who exactly are you?" Uncle Vernon demanded, his face showing the first signs of turning purple as Harry's heart raced in excitement – Uncle Vernon could see her too. His beady eyes widened as Harry threw his arms around her without thinking, wanting to laugh when she didn't dissolve into thin air.
"She's my friend," Harry answered, "And she's here, she's actually..." Heat flooded to his cheeks and he pulled back feeling slightly embarrassed, the dazzling sunlight shining in the soft green of Wanda's eyes as they softened, regarding Harry with a mixture of pity and guilt – and for once, Harry thought he deserved it.
"She- what- get away from here!" Uncle Vernon eventually bellowed, the familiar shade of puce surging into his face as his small mind computed who she must be. "There's no place for your kind here!" he hissed, lowering his voice.
"My kind?" Wanda challenged, her head tilting as she let go of Harry.
"Yes your kind," Harry's Uncle repeated, shaking with defiant anger and taking a step out of the doorway; Wanda simply smirked and the colour of his face deepened, Harry forgave her already – if only just for this.
Aunt Petunia appeared behind him, horsey face pursed and eyes darting between them all. "What's going on, Vernon?" she asked.
"One of his lot is here, that's what!" He heckled, jabbing a finger at Harry's best friend.
Petunia gasped, covering her mouth with her thin hands, and Wanda laughed, her teeth glinting in the sun. "Dumbledore is evil," she said and Harry looked at her, slightly taken aback. "Come on, Harry."
"Er- no, no I don't think so-!"
"Merlin, how have you even survived?" Wanda asked him, speaking over his Uncle's protests and ruffling soil and bits of plant roots out of Harry's hair.
"Merlin-? GET BACK HERE-" His Uncle roared after them, his voice rising several decibels at the blatant use of a word so obviously belonging to the Wizarding World.
"Oh, we'll be back later," she said, seemingly unable to stop herself from laughing as she raised her voice over the shouts issuing from Number Four Privet Drive. "Unfortunately."
Harry grinned back, taking her outstretched hand as they turned off down the street and the shouting faded into nothing more than a distant hum. Neighbours were peering out of their windows as they strolled down the street, all with half interested - half irritated expressions on their faces. Maybe they thought that the incurably criminal boy was causing trouble again - maybe they simply wondered what all the noise was; either way, Harry didn't care.
It was unbearably hot as they approached an abandoned playpark, and Wanda's hand radiated more heat, but he didn't let go, he still didn't truly believe she was here and was afraid that if he did let go she'd disappear with a phantom wind.
As if hearing his thoughts, which, Harry supposed she could've been, her face contorted into an expression close to agony. "I'm so sorry that you've been here all on your own with those foul people, Dumbledore's been awful – he won't let us do or say anything-"
Despite feeling slightly amused that she'd called the Dursleys exactly what they'd just called him, the frustration that he'd been feeling all summer flickered back into his chest and he did end up letting go of her hand after all, pausing by the gleaming and chipped roundabout.
"Yeah. So Ron and Hermione said." He replied, stiffly.
Her eyes watered, which made Harry feel awful as she dropped her gaze to her ringless hands; despite this, his temper didn't calm. "I wanted to write but I didn't know what to say-"
"Hello? How are you doing? Are you coping okay after seeing Lord Voldemort reborn?" Harry snapped, and Wanda blinked guiltily.
Her lip was trembling as she pulled at a loose strand on the bottom of her burgundy vest. "I wanted to be able to be there for you properly," she said. "You deserve to have your friends with you when you go through that again."
Harry was silent as he walked past her and sat down on the roundabout, the metal creaking as it moved. Wanda followed him.
"You shouldn't have to go through it alone-" she began, and Harry turned to face her again, unable to keep the acid out of his tone as he snapped, "Yeah, well I did. In the Summer and every single night since."
The girl's face flushed as if she understood, her front teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she said, "I'm sorry, Harry."
Harry turned away, still feeling angry, but a sudden thought had occurred to him and he asked despite himself, "So does anyone know you're here now?"
"No." she almost whispered. "I'm going to be in so much trouble - Dumbledore himself forbade us to visit you, and Molly- oh, she'll be furious, too..."
Harry glanced side-long at her, he was close to forgiving and he knew it. "Well, why are you here then?" he asked, pushing it.
Wanda's eyes shone but she responded defiantly, "Because I've missed you!" Harry's heart throbbed. "I should've wrote... but it's such a shitty thing to do - keep telling you that we can't say anything, keep making you angry, keeping shutting you out. I couldn't do it. I decided I'd just have to tell you when I came to see you, but it- it's taken longer than I wanted it to. I'm sorry, Harry. I really am."
He regarded his friend, the friend he had been the most angry at for not writing all summer - but she had broken Dumbledore's rules to come and see him - risked expulsion and God knows what else just to be here with him, knowing he'd be angry, knowing he'd lash out at her - and yet she'd still came. And she still cared. Harry's anger was slowly being replaced with swelling gratitude.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Wanda." He said, eventually. "For lashing out at you."
The girl looked back at him, an angry scowl tightening her face. "Don't you be sorry - you're the one who's been trapped here with no one but those disgusting muggles for company! I can't believe that it's happened, it's utterly ridiculous - and cruel." she added, and the last of Harry's resentment melted away; he had not expected this - would never have expected this in a million years.
"Thank you." he told her, forcing himself to look her in the eye. "You have no idea how much it means to me."
The moment that I found myself in my own embrace, the scene started to fade and my senses returned to the body that was on Hogwarts grounds. My head was still spinning slightly as I faced him, his hair twitching in the autumn breeze.
"That's the memory I used against the dementors when Dudley and I were attacked," he said, and my mouth slowly opened.
The rest of that afternoon had been spent talking and doing the homework that Harry had been forbidden to do by the Dursleys; I had no idea it had made him that happy, that he was that lonely and miserable before I came.
I leant forward through the grass and pulled him into a hug, finding no words other than "thank you."
"Happy Birthday." he whispered back.
A few moments passed before Ron and Hermione joined in and two more pairs of arms entangled with us. "I don't know why we're hugging," Ron said. "Just so you know."
I laughed, my gaze meeting Harry's, who was grinning back, and Hermione rolled her eyes, "We're hugging because we're all best friends, Ron!" she laughs. "And it's Wanda's birthday!"
"Ohhh," Ron sighs, and we all laugh again. "Well, now that makes sense."
My heart swells and tears spring to my eyes. I hold them closer and kiss the top of each one of their heads - we have our ups and downs. We argue like cat and mouse. But we love each other, and I am infinitely grateful to have found them.
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concept art you guys bc why not
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