A/N: Hello, friendly readers! Chapter 2, here we come! Honestly, you have no idea how many times I had to rewrite this, and I'm still not sure if the writing is comprehensible, but here goes! If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please review. Any and all suggestions are welcome!
Special shout out to those who followed, favorited, and or reviewed this story so far! You have no idea how much it means to me and motivates me to write! I told myself before I started this that I would continue to post (I still would've written it, but you know...) if I even got one follow, favorite, or review, and so let me just say I love you all. :) *Passes out brownies* (Since that seems to be a thing on . :) ) Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2: For Pietro
"Again, pet, unless you'd like to get yourself killed out there."
From across a sunlit field, Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlet Witch, stood waiting, an exasperated look on her tired face as she warily eyed the woman in front of her.
It was late afternoon, sometime in mid to late July, and for the last three weeks, the two witches, Wanda and Bellatrix, had been vigorously training.
"Again, pet! What did I say?"
Wanda's hair was sticking to her neck and forehead, her eyes hardly focusing, and her knees wobbling beneath her. For three weeks, she'd been dealing with Bella's erratic behavior, and she couldn't believe she'd lasted so long. One more game of "use your magic to throw things at me" and Wanda was almost sure she would retaliate, whether she knew what she was doing or not.
"Fine," the dark witch sneered. "I guess it's my turn."
Wanda barely had time to raise her hands before an electric current shot out of Bellatrix' wand and came racing towards her heart. A stream of crimson flew from her fingers, absorbing the green sparks just centimeters away. Bella laughed and sent another few spells, all of which were thankfully caught before they could do any damage. Wanda scowled at her, as she dodged yet another blow, this time by leaping aside.
"Naughty, naughty!" Bellatrix chided. "Mustn't dodge like that, sweet, you'll run out of energy. What ever will I do with you?"
"I don't know," she replied, huffing. She thought the comments a little ridiculous, considering the fact that she was completely exhausted anyway. She couldn't believe that the other woman still looked so pale in her black cloak with her dark hair heating her neck. In comparison, the younger woman was pink and flushed, wore a simple white t-shirt and shortened pants, and had her brunette curls swept into a ponytail. At least, she thought it was called a ponytail. Such an odd word, she mused listlessly. Human hair had absolutely nothing to do with a pony.
Even such a small distraction as that fleeting thought, and the next thing Wanda knew, she was flying into the air. She landed about a yard to the side of her original position, all the wind knocked out of her, and yelped slightly when her shoulder hit a fist-sized rock, her cheek scraping the earth.
"Bet that one hurt."
The witch really wasn't one for sympathy, was she? Wanda sat up slowly, a hand to her slightly bleeding face, the beginnings of a few bruises already starting to show on her pale skin.
Bella closed the distance, and as she approached, Wanda responded as she got to her feet. "It's not the first time I've been thrown today."
"Nor is it the last."
At least she was honest.
"And yet again, then?" Her accent seemed more pronounced when she was in pain, so the dark haired woman had to ask her to repeat herself. She did, and she was surprised when her mentor shook her head.
"No, the sun's going, we've been at it all day."
Wanda hadn't realized the setting sun until that moment, as she watched the golden rays dancing in the shattered gaze of her mistress.
"Take some time, sweet, and when the light goes, we'll have some fun." Bellatrix' nose scrunched up at that, the glee evident in her wicked smile. She looked like she was plotting some delightful new form of torture, and Wanda hated to think that that was probably the case.
"I have things to do. Be sure not to wander off. Til midnight, pet."
And with that, Bellatrix was gone.
For a moment, Wanda simply stared at the spot where Bellatrix had apparated, and then, reminded of her aching… well, entire body… she limped over to a rock and sat down.
Less than a month ago, on a very strange night, Wanda had met the Dark Lord. Whatever she'd been expecting at Malfoy Manor, it wasn't the reality. From what she had gathered, Lord Voldemort was known for his brutality, and instead of living up to that legend, he had simply asked her name, welcomed her, and continued with the discussion. Such a strange turn of events. She wasn't sure what to make of it.
Sitting there, she found her mind drifting back to that night. It seemed such a long time ago, and yet, it was no time at all. She remembered even the small details.
Upon entering the dimly lit room, she'd looked around at the vast variety of terrifying faces and wanted to run out immediately. There was a time when she would have done just that, but not now. Instead, she steeled herself and wiped the slate of her emotions clean. If anything, she had become exceptional at hiding her true feelings.
As she'd entered in Bellatrix' wake, she'd quickly scanned the crowd to see what information she could glean. There, a man in the corner with dark hair and light skin. He was staring at her, and she captured a fleeting thought- "wonder what he's gonna do to this one." Another, a woman this time, blonde and prudish- "poor girl. She's got no idea what she's getting into. How very unfortunate." Beside her, a younger man, also blonde and bearing similar features; all she got from that one was "bloody hell." It was about that time that her nerves overwhelmed her, and the signals became too mixed for her to read anyone else.
Her eyes took in the entire group, then landed last on the pale figure at the very end of the table, farthest from her. He was studying her with the strangest look on his face, and she had to fight not to respond. She knew who he was, and she was afraid of what he would say next. His next words might determine her future. His next words might condemn her to death.
And then, she didn't know what happened, but she was seated at the table beside Bellatrix and a sallow blond man. All eyes were upon her, and the Dark Lord was beaming at her, of all things, and for some unexplainable reason she was smiling back. And they toasted her, raising their glasses in her behalf, and she was sure that things were so very wrong. She had expected a test. Or torture. Or some form of interrogation. But not this, never this. She wondered why they were welcoming her, why this Lord Voldemort was welcoming her, when in her mind, this was far from where she belonged.
At the time, she'd been far too nervous to really absorb the situation. But now, after so many weeks of thinking about nothing but training, she finally allowed herself to consider him. Interesting. Until that moment, she hadn't realized how much she'd noticed, and how much Lord Voldemort's demeanor had been irritating her.
From the beginning, she'd seen the way they (the Death Eaters) looked to him, the respect, and fear, and even... loathing. From Bellatrix alone she saw obsession, the way the witch clung to his every word. She noticed how every soul inside the place felt strongly where he was concerned, and she couldn't say she blamed them. He was so intense, so ethereal, so enigmatic. She wondered why she hadn't seen it before.
She remembered trying to read him, and at the time, it hadn't seemed odd, but now it seemed very strange that she couldn't. She couldn't explain it, she couldn't pinpoint his emotions, for the feelings were so mixed within him, so contrary and complicated. Most people held a few emotions at a time, and specific thoughts would find their way to her. But not with the Dark Lord. It was as if he were at war with himself.
And then, she realized that he was watching her. His eyes were not on her, but one word did whisper in his mind- chillingly, it was her name. Wanda. She felt as if he was attempting to peer into her soul. She couldn't shake her insecurity; it was so unnerving.
She tried to picture his face in her mind- his pale skin and slit, crimson eyes- tried to peer into his soul and discover the emotions that, annoyingly, she could not decipher. It seemed his attention was fixated on her from the moment she walked in the door. It was terrifying, knowing that he was a murderer, that he had smiled at her, and she sensed that there was a reason. It was terrifying, for it dawned on her that she was lying to him. How to lie, when you're being watched?
She calmed herself, though. She'd seen so many worse things in life; how could she truly be afraid of this man? His behavior was simply strange, she thought, coming back to the field shadowed in fading sunlight. Very strange, indeed.
XXX
Where was that insolent witch? He'd told her exactly when he needed her, he'd told her that it was of crucial importance that she arrive on time. And after his careful instructions, she'd still had the nerve to leave him waiting there in an upstairs room of Malfoy Manor.
Ever since the arrival of the other witch, Bellatrix had become even more insufferable. He'd thought it couldn't get worse than her nagging and obsessive need for approval, but he had been proven wrong. From the moment the Scarlet Witch arrived, Bella had been disappearing for long stretches of time, forgetting important details of his delicate plan, and whenever she was around, she acted even more proud and manic than even he was accustomed to. It was as if Wanda Maximoff was a prize she'd procured, and she was more than delighted to play mistress to the woman.
In all honesty, however, he knew he should be glad that Bella was distracted. Madame Maximoff was exceptional, he'd seen that in the first minute. He couldn't deny her potential, even with the little he knew about her, and if she could keep Bella out of his way during these times of waiting and planning, he should be grateful. But something about the whole situation still irritated him.
Nevertheless, he would use the situation to his advantage. Now was not a time to become angry over petty things.
Just then, the doors flung open, and there, her hair flying wildly in her face, stood Bellatrix Lestrange.
He thought, but didn't say, "speak of the devil." Instead, he glared at her, his eyes so narrow that his pupils were just visible.
"Where, pray tell, have you been, Madame Lestrange? I've been…" he trailed off. Then, gritting his teeth, "...worried."
"I've been in training, my lord! The girl is far from ready, and there is much to be done! I beg forgiveness, I live to serve!"
So typical. The witch was groveling again.
"Well, she shall have to be ready. Are you aware of the coming attack? I should hope, unless you've somehow forgotten our delicate position."
His steely eyes bore into her coldly, waiting for a response. As was becoming more and more common, she looked offended at the insult, her eyebrows knit, her heavy copper eyes pleading with him. And then, she seemed to register the first thing he'd said.
Her mouth opened, about to protest. "But she's not…"
He cut her off with a sharp glance. "She must be, Bella. Tomorrow, Severus has informed me of the boy's movement. I need her. Tomorrow, we will see what she can do."
With that, he swept past the witch, pausing just before the door frame as she called out to him.
"But my lord, she is not ready!"
He swiveled abruptly, then nearly flew back to the witch, towering over her, his face so close that she could feel his frozen breath on her face. Nevertheless, Bellatrix plowed on.
"Might I suggest a more… appropriate time?" she whispered.
Probably because he'd never heard Bella defy him, he stepped back, shocked, though he did not otherwise show it.
"The ministry…" she trailed off.
Light from the falling sun that drifted through the window glinted in his eyes, and a small smile played on his lips.
"As you request, Bellatrix. Very well."
XXX
When Bellatrix arrived back at the field, Wanda was pacing there in the pitch blackness. It was midnight, as she had promised, and the only sound was that of a few creatures rustling around somewhere off and away.
She could tell the witch was thinking rather intently on something or another, and that whatever it was was giving her considerable grief. She kept mumbling under her breath, and when Bella finally stepped into her circular path, Wanda tensed and let off a small spurt of red light. The dark witch dodged just in time, grabbing the other's wrist before she could try it again.
"Anxious, sweet?" she teased, though in a menacing way, as always.
"Madame Lestrange? I am truly sorry. I was… thinking again," Wanda explained, relaxing as Bella released her.
"Think before you curse. Now, then, it's time we leave," the woman said, peering intently into the nothingness, though there was no way she could see anything.
"Where are we going? I thought we were training?"
Bella didn't say anything, but she held out her arm. It took Wanda a moment to see it, but she knew better than to ask again. She took the proffered arm, and they apparated.
X
Wanda would never get used to apparition. She felt nauseous after every trip, the pressure building up behind her eyes and her vision blurring, her stomach clenching. Still, she would never tell her mistress that. Bellatrix already thought it strange that she couldn't cast typical spells or disappear and reappear at will. She didn't want to seem any more inferior than she already felt.
When the world finally slowed, it didn't do much to help her figure out she was, however. If it was even possible, it was even darker here, the blackness so thick it was almost tangible. She reached into the air then, feeling for anything. At least she knew she was standing on stone, and that was something. After a few seconds, though, her senses came back to her, and she held out her hand for a different purpose, sending out a red tentacle of light.
It ribboned into the space, then branched out, winding its way around what appeared to be the edges of a semi-round room. Stark or Banner, being the scientists that they were, would have said it looked like a neuron, sending signals back and forth along its twisting spine. In a moment, the tendrils began climbing, up the walls and onto the ceiling, a fluorescent spider web. She finally saw the place for what it was- a large, circular cave.
"I could have told you where we were, you know."
Wanda turned to face the dark woman, now bathed in the mysterious glow, and she thought Bella more terrifying then than she had ever been. She'd forgotten in her stupor that the witch was there.
"Lumos," she said simply, and the tip of her wand sent out a beam much like a flashlight. The Scarlet Witch lowered her hands, and the web vanished gradually.
It was only when the evidence of her magic was completely gone that Wanda noticed that there was something else in the room. It hadn't been there before, but behind her mentor, a dim, wispy substance seemed to float out of the crevices on the wall.
For a minute she watched, unable to shift her gaze away as whatever it was formed, becoming more and more lifelike as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she thought to say something, to warn Bella. But when she looked at the face marked by wand-light, the witch seemed ready to cackle, and she knew- Bellatrix was doing this.
She turned back to the substance, and then it was more than a substance. It was a figure, a person. Coming out of the wall and gliding towards her, it became real. At least, she would have thought it real if not for two facts. First, she could see it, as if it were daytime for the individual alone. And second, she couldn't decide who it was. Every time she thought she knew, it morphed, becoming someone else.
It took a minute for her to register the sound, but it occurred to her that Bellatrix had said something.
"What?" She blinked, tensely focused on the person, or unperson, or whatever it was.
"Pick someone."
"What do you mean, pick someone?" Now she was thoroughly confused, but Bella seemed delighted.
"Pick! It will become anyone you desire."
Wanda glanced away again, finding Bella's haunting figure.
"Why?" she asked. Wanda had learned long ago not to be trusting, and so such an odd request, in such an odd place, in the middle of the night just felt like a trap.
"Just choose. It won't hurt you."
For some reason, that just made her suspicion that much worse. But, she had to admit she was curious. And if the Death Eater hadn't killed her yet, she probably wouldn't. As long as she didn't figure out why Wanda was really becoming a Death Eater.
So, she considered, staring at the creature with all her might. Though she was pretending to weigh her options, she knew immediately who she would think of. Without knowing when it happened, the creature morphed, and suddenly, it wasn't many people, but one.
Staring at her out of the darkness, Wanda laid eyes on her beloved brother.
"Pietro," she whispered, tears forming in her glassy green eyes. He smiled, his characteristic grin lighting up not only the blackness, but her entire world. She smiled back then, her bottom lip still quivering ever so slightly. She didn't know why, but she couldn't say anything more, her feet stuck to the cold rock, a lump forming in her throat.
And then, she broke free, and she was running to him, stumbling only slightly, her arms extended to embrace him. She reached him, and she went to touch him, and then… there was nothing. Her hand went through his very fabric, and she was looking into his face with shock, and she was begging him to tell her why she couldn't touch him. But he didn't say anything. He had no words, he didn't even do anything but float there above the earth, smiling and silent.
"He's not real, dear. He's still dead, you know."
Wanda turned on the woman, hatred and anger and overwhelming grief filling her up, her fists clenching and unclenching, unsure what they were supposed to do. And then, she fell to the floor.
Her fists balled into her eyes, tears now racing down her cheeks, and she was sobbing like a little girl. It had been so many years, so, so many, and yet, the wound was fresh and new and permanent. No. Not permanent. Because this couldn't be forever. It couldn't. Forever was much too long a wait.
She didn't realize that Bellatrix was next to her until she felt an arm around her shoulder. Peering up through her wet lashes, she saw the look Bella was giving her, and she was grateful, so grateful to have her. The witch wasn't usually one for kindness, but this was her protege, her greatest triumph. And unbeknownst to Wanda, this Scarlet Witch was her ticket to the Dark Lord's approval. And that was all that Bella had ever wanted.
"Who is he, Wanda? Who do you see?"
"My… my brother… he...he died… so…" she couldn't say more, so she just shook her head. Bellatrix stroked her hair, tsking. When Wanda's tears finally subsided, Bella lifted her to her feet, and said, gently, "pick someone else, sweet. Don't think about him, pick someone else."
Shaking, Wanda stood up, and then, somehow, the Scarlet Witch took over. She stared at the entity that was not her brother, and the first face that came to her mind appeared. It was Natasha, Black Widow, a friend from her distant past. She looked at the kind eyes, and quirked smile, and she missed this face. But she didn't cry.
No, she didn't cry when she saw this face- her expression was controlled and motionless, as she had learned to make it. And then, she waited, to see what her mistress would have her do.
The insanity was back- she could feel the cruel glee radiating off of the witch. She should have expected the words before they were said.
"Read her."
Wanda almost asked her to repeat herself, to clarify, but all of a sudden she knew. Bellatrix wanted her to use her magic.
"Read her, use her memory against her. Read her, twist her mind. Read her," the witch commanded, on the verge of cackling.
Wanda glanced at her sharply. Why would she tell her to do that? Especially after… what had just happened? Why read a hologram? Not to mention, she wouldn't.
"No," she stated, firm. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Read her. She is a friend, is she not?"
"Yes, and I make it a point to protect my friends, not use them."
"Read her. Use her mind against her. Don't worry, her actual memories are there. You'll be able to do it."
"Did you not hear me? No. I do not toy with my friends."
"Read her, Wanda. Read her. Just do it. If you must know, this is your training. You must do this, Wanda. You must."
"No! Why? Why would I do such a thing?"
"To prove that you can! Be the Scarlet Witch! Be the villain! Prove that you are loyal, that you will use your power, that you will take power, that you deserve the power you are about to receive! Prove it, Wanda! I do not expect you to betray your brother, not yet, but this woman? You must show me that you are able to make whatever sacrifice, no matter how high the cost. Prove it, Wanda. Prove it. Read her."
Bellatrix was so commanding, her eyes alight and her glee horrifying.
"Do it, or you will never be a Death Eater. Do it, or power will never be yours."
Wanda was not concerned with power, but the words sank in. You will never be a Death Eater… prove it… betray your brother…
If she did this, she would be betraying Natasha. She would be betraying her friends, and the morals she had set when she received her power. She would be betraying her past, and worse, she would be betraying herself.
But she'd seen Pietro. Illusion or not, he was real to her, and somewhere beyond, somewhere she had not yet found, he was waiting. She couldn't give up on him yet. She couldn't. She had to become a Death Eater. She needed to. She must.
She felt the darkness writhing within her as she raised her arms. Her eyes began to glow scarlet, as the red liquid light poured from her fingers and snaked their way up Natasha's form.
As the venom injected itself into the waiting mind, Natasha's eyes grew large and terrified. She squirmed, mouthing what might have been, "No, please, don't, Wanda!" The Scarlet Witch looked guiltily away, but she didn't stop.
And then, images were flashing in her mind, visions of every joy and every pain the assassin had ever known. She saw things she had never imagined, things that explained everything she'd never understood about the woman.
All that, and she held her head, trying to block it out, but knowing she couldn't and that she wouldn't. As horrible as it was, it could become worse. She couldn't believe it, but it could. She took the thoughts, and she twisted them. She made it worse.
Finally, the thoughts left, and she was lost in the silence. She was breathing hard, and shaking severely. She looked up, afraid, and she saw the figure that was Natasha. She was screaming, a scream that couldn't be heard, but was nevertheless real. Surprisingly, it was even more terrible that way.
"Send her away," Bellatrix prompted. Wanda did, and when she glance back, it was Hawkeye that stood in her place. He was unbidden this time, but he was there.
"Again," Bellatrix crooned.
Tears she could not cry filled her eyes. But she did.
XXX
For the millionth time in so many days, Voldemort found himself wondering, agitatedly, where that impossible witch was.
He'd called her a few times already, and although he knew it was the middle of the night, it was urgent. The rest of the Death Eaters were already gathered, and there was no time. In less than twenty-four hours, they would attack the home of Harry Potter. There was so much to do before then.
That Bellatrix. That wretched woman. He would go without her, but he didn't like loose ends. She was too involved. Why wouldn't she answer such a direct call? It was probably that pet of hers, that Scarlet Witch, that Wanda. He didn't know why thinking about her caused him so much agitation these days. She just did.
Well, there wasn't much he could do. He would find her.
The Dark Lord closed his eyes, muttered a spell under his breath, and searched for her mind.
Normally, such a thing was not possible, but with the dark mark and a few curses she'd allowed him to cast on her, Voldemort was able to keep track of the location of his most loyal.
He looked around, his eyes shivering in their sockets, his mind careening through twisted space and deep tunnels until he could see her.
She was enveloped in darkness, but for a few small lights, and she was hunched over, alone. Or so it seemed at first, until she shifted, and he could see the woman beside her.
It was Wanda Maximoff, and she was weeping. Tears streamed from her beautiful face in unrelenting torrents, and from the agony written in her eyes, he might have thought the entire world had ended. That happiness had ceased to exist.
He was shocked, and concerned, and he honestly couldn't believe he cared. The Dark Lord was not one for empathy. He was not one to concern himself with the concerns of others. He loved power, and power alone. He would seek happiness for himself, and no one else. Why did he care for her pain?
But he did, and before he knew what he was doing, he was flying, soaring away on a cloud of smoke to the place of the suffering. Whoever was causing that heartache would pay. Whoever had done this would die.
It took him some time to locate them, but a few minutes, and he knew he'd found them. Nevertheless, when he came to the cave opening, he hesitated, holding his wand in both hands, considering.
A moment, and he stared into the abyss, wondering why he did not want to enter. And then, he pushed whatever it was aside, and walked in.
There was a figure by the wall, glowing, growing large and green, with anger in its face. He thought it was the culprit for an instant, but then he recognized the magic. It wasn't real.
Standing off to one side was Bellatrix, pride in her visage.
And before the monster was Wanda, a mask on her face but lingering pain, and determined hope, resting in the calloused eyes that had been crying only minutes ago.
When Bella saw him, her mouth gaped, and then widened into a grotesque grin. And then, there was a touch of confusion, as she inwardly questioned why he was there.
"Ah…" And with that one syllable, Wanda's gaze was on him. Seeing that there was no danger, and that she appeared to be fine, (even if she probably wasn't,) he felt foolish for being there. This was so out of character for him, and he wasn't sure what to say. It took a few seconds, but he finally came up with something believable, that was actually true, even if not entirely.
"Bella, you're late. I've been calling, and there is much to do. Why have you been ignoring me?" The cruel hiss of his own voice was comforting, reminding him who he was and what he was supposed to act like.
"My lord, I am so, so…"
"Save it Bella. Come."
And with one last glance at Wanda, he turned on his heel and walked out, knowing Bella would follow.
Bellatrix looked at Wanda, and said a few parting words that the witch did not catch. As she left, the Scarlet Witch asked a final question.
"Where are you going?"
"I told you, pet. To get Harry Potter."
And she, too, walked out.
Wanda Maximoff was left in the blackness, with nothing but her tortured thoughts to comfort her as had happened so many times in her life already. She had done it for Pietro, but she was afraid it was only the first step into inevitable darkness. She had done it, but she was afraid of where it would take her. What was she becoming?
She sat on the floor, exhausted as she always seemed to be these days. Her eyes started to flutter as the midnight settled over her. She thought of Harry Potter, and she wondered what they would do to him. She pitied him, as she imagined his fate, bleeding into nothingness, haunted by those slit-crimson eyes. She wondered what would have happened if the Avengers were still here, if she was still a hero. If they knew there was a whole world left that still needed saving.
Her last thoughts were of those slit-crimson eyes, the eyes of a murderer that would likely walk free, the eyes of a murderer she was helping. Her last thoughts were of those slit-crimson eyes, and the look she thought she had seen in them as he walked away, if for only a moment. Her last thoughts were of those slit-crimson eyes, haunting her, too, as sleep and inevitable nightmares slowly, painfully, overtook her.
A/N: So, hope it was satisfactory! Hope the pacing's okay, but if it's not, you know where to find me. Also, things will probably pick up next chapter, and probably even more in the next. So, you have that to look forward to. Goodbye, and have a fabulous week!