Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.
Stephanie Bennett-Henry
The gate was worn, its paint peeling and the wood crumbling, but it looked used and loved despite its obvious battle with the cruelty of time. Beyond that, a small pathway made of light grey concrete lined the grass and led to an unconventionally bright red doorway. The lights in the house were on even though the sun was only just now beginning to set in the far distance and the air was cool yet damp with the smell that only England seemed to have. Hedges and vines were dispersed across the maintained yard but small holes in the ground signified the all too recognisable problem of gnomes. The familiarity of it made Ginny smile in relief and she opened the gate slowly, the hinges protesting loudly in the otherwise quiet air.
Her steps felt foreign against the concrete as she walked up to the door with measured steps. From inside the house, she could only just hear the sound of laughing and talking and Ginny vaguely wondered whether or not he had friends over. A part of her wished that he did. It would certainly make things easier for her. As long as none of her family were there though. She wasn't quite ready to deal with them yet.
She stared at the door for a second before hesitantly raising her free hand and knocking hard on its red surface. She would have thought that she would have felt more nervous when this moment finally arrived, but all she could feel was dread. Dread that she would be turned away. Dread at the thought of the explanations that would be required. Dread at the imagination of a friendship destroyed all because of her selfishness. Absently, she realised that the voices from inside fell quickly silent and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she waited for him to answer the door. Hopefully he wouldn't shun her. She didn't know whether she would be able to take that.
The door opened and Ginny's head snapped up, her eyes meeting the dumbfounded brown ones of Neville Longbottom. He looked good, she recognised distractedly. Happy. He deserved to be happy.
"I…" Ginny said, suddenly unsure of what to say. "Hello Neville."
Neville didn't say anything and Ginny felt the anxiety in her stomach rise disturbingly.
"I'm sorry to intrude, but could I stay here tonight? I, uh, I have nowhere else to go."
Neville blinked and cleared his throat. "I, uh, sure, sure. But, is that really you?" he said hoarsely. "This isn't a joke or anything, is it?"
Ginny grimaced at him sheepishly. "No, it's not a joke. And thank you. Really."
"Uh, no problem. It's not a problem…"
"Neville? Who is it?" a voice from inside the house called and Ginny smiled a small smile to herself at the sound of one of her best friends' voices. Hermione. She should have known that she was there as soon as she had heard the laughing. Hermione had a very distinct type of laugh. "Honestly, if it's that bloody Vector Baldridge again, then I'll bloody hex his stupid ass to-"
Neville coughed lightly, still looking at Ginny with wide eyes. "It's not Vector Baldridge, Hermione."
"Then who one earth could it-"
"Hello Hermione," Ginny said, a small guilty smile tugging at the edges of her lips as the brunette stepped into view. Her brown hair was done up in a messy bun and she wore comfortable clothes that made Ginny more than slightly envious. Her eyes were bright, yet tired and familiar, and she held herself differently than how she used to hold herself. She seemed more… confident. Proud. It was a nice change to see, especially after the war. In a way, in many ways, Ginny thought, Hermione had had it even tougher than she had. She had suffered because of her blood status, she had been carved up by Bellatrix Lestrange, a mark that would forever be etched into her skin, and she, at the beginning of the war, had erased herself from her parent's minds. She had lost a surrogate mother in Molly Weasley and a brother in Harry. So many, including herself, Ginny thought remorsefully, had gotten caught up in their own loss and their own pain after the war, but so many had suffered so much more. So many had been through so much, seen so much more terror than she had and the thought, as she surveyed the witch standing in front of her, reminded her darkly of that fact. It was sobering. But it was needed. "It's been a while."
Hermione simply stared in disbelief, her eyes just as wide as Neville's. "Yes, you could say that," she said quietly. "But why are you here?" her voice unexpectedly urgent. "Has something happened?"
"I'm going to the ceremony tomorrow," Ginny murmured. "And I'm fine. How are you?"
"I, um, I've been better," Hermione replied tersely, a curious yet cautious expression sitting on her face. "So, are you going to come in and give us an actual explanation or just stand there? And no, Ron isn't here because I broke up with him over a year and a half ago, so don't worry about bumping into any of your family."
Ginny sighed, accepting the bite in Hermione's words and tucked away the knowledge of their break up for later. She stepped in obediently, not missing the appraising look that Hermione gave her at her choice of attire and her use of a muggle travel bag. In all honesty, Ginny wasn't the least bit surprised with the way that she was being treated. She had actually expected outright hostility, so she supposed that this wasn't so bad in comparison. But still, she couldn't deny that she was still hurt by their reactions, even if they were exactly or even less than what she truly deserved.
"This place hasn't changed much from the last time that I was here," Ginny commented lightly as she stepped into the entry hall, her suitcase trailing behind her. "It looks just the same."
Neville smiled awkwardly and looked around the entrance hall affectionately, a far off look in his eyes. "It does, doesn't it? After Gran died, I just didn't have the heart to change it…"
Ginny breathed in sharply at his admission. His Gran had died? When? How? And Ginny felt the now familiar wave of guilt bubbling up inside her. She had been gone for too long. Far too long, wrapped in a web of her own problems.
God, she had been such a selfish bitch.
"Merlin, Neville, I'm so sorry."
He looked at the ground and brought a tense hand through his hair. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "It was over a year ago, but I think that she was glad to leave this place behind." Ginny didn't miss the slight jab that came with his words and she pursed her lips at the sound of it.
"So," Hermione interrupted, bitter mood that had fallen over them breaking. "Like I said, Ron isn't here, but I think that that's a good thing, given the circumstances," she added with a careful look at Ginny, "but Luna and Draco are both here. I'm sure that they would be glad to see you."
"Draco? As in Draco Malfoy? Are you serious?" Ginny said disbelievingly, forgetting the sombre atmosphere for a brief second. "But he's a slimy, stuck up git!"
"You mean, Weasley, that I was a slimy, stuck up git."
The voice was disgustingly familiar and Ginny glanced up as the blonde strolled haughtily into the small hall. Ginny glared at him in stunned disbelief. He had, if it was possible, gotten taller than from when she knew him and his hair had become even whiter if the shine under the dim lighting was anything to go by. But he looked different. Less sallow, and more… light, she supposed to herself. She had to grudgingly admit that the new look did suit him. Somewhat. "Long time no see, Weaselette," he purred, smirking at her arrogantly. "Kenna Optum, am I correct?"
"How do you know about her?" Ginny asked snappishly. She hadn't heard that name in over three years and quite frankly, she had never wanted to hear it again.
"Well," Malfoy shrugged, stepping towards her, the heels of his black shoes clacking on the wooden floor, "she's the only one who could have hidden you so well. She is, after all, the one whom all of the Death Eaters went to. I do believe, though, that she is in some sort of American Wizard Prison after her activities were discovered, but you must have gotten to her just in time."
"Obviously," Ginny muttered tightly.
"You know, Weasley," Malfoy continued, his smirk widening, "I would say that you haven't changed a bit, seeing as girls like to hear that kind of thing, but this time I'm going to make an exception, because you look great. Really."
"Very kind of you, Malfoy," Ginny scowled at him and she shifted her gaze to Neville and Hermione, the former who looked slightly cautious and the latter who looked more than a little curious at the exchange. "So how long has he been a part of the group?" she asked, jabbing a finger at the blonde.
"I have been a part of the 'group' since after the war," Malfoy interrupted smoothly, still staring at Ginny, his gaze mildly intrigued. "When the aurors came for me, I didn't resist. I spent a couple of months in Azkaban for it though, mind you, but it gave me time to think." He took a deep breath, placing his hands contemplatively behind his back. "So I decided to contact these idiots here," he said, indicating Hermione and Neville. "I wanted to know about what was happening after the war. Who had been captured etcetera. The letters were short and to the point at first, but slowly, we started a regular correspondence and before I knew it, my time in Azkaban was over and now the only thing that it remains is a fleeting nightmare. When I got out, Neville put me up for a while and then Hermione, after she had broken up with that Weasley git, hosted me for a while as well. It wasn't exactly fun, but it did the job for a couple of months before I could get my own place. I owe them."
Ginny was silent. "Fine," she said finally. "But I still don't like you. Or trust you, for that matter."
Malfoy scoffed. "I don't need you to like me or trust me. You only have to understand my reasons. Speaking of reasons, Weaslette, what are yours? Because, you see, I've been trying to justify your running away for the past few minutes now and I still have yet to come up with something that actually supports your decision to spontaneously leave."
Hermione sighed. "Why don't we move this into the living room," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose irritably. "We all have a lot to catch up on and I'm not going to talk whilst standing here in the bloody doorway. Besides, Luna's waiting for us."
The living room looked like it had come right out of the Victorian era and was wonderfully familiar as Ginny stepped into it, memories of past visits floating randomly into her mind. The sofas were spotless with cream coloured fabric lining them. Wood had been twirled elegantly into handles. Cupboards made of glass and polished wood – mahogany, if she wasn't mistaken – filled the room, protecting the little figurines, moving photographs and expensive porcelain dinnerware.
And then there was Luna. The blonde looked radiant, giving Ginny a big beaming smile as soon as she laid eyes on the redhead. An odd necklace, one that Ginny hadn't seen before, was swinging wildly around her neck and there was a dreamy look in her intelligent eyes. In her hands, she held a stack of parchment, neat scrawl covering the pages, and Ginny vaguely wondered if those were her own notes or someone else's. Merlin, Ginny had missed her.
"So, let me get this straight," Neville said slowly through a mouthful of biscuit, giving Ginny a somewhat impressed look. "You went to America where you changed your identity and hid yourself from the magical world. Then, you, you who barely used to have any interest in muggles, gave up magic and got a muggle job in a muggle company."
Ginny inclined her head. "That would be correct."
"And you're still there? A part of this muggle company? Do you still not use magic?"
"I am still a part of the muggle company," Ginny said dryly, reaching for her own biscuit, "and believe it or not, I used magic only days ago in a confrontation against some stuck up witch named Jennifer Evamore."
"Jennifer Evamore?" Malfoy scoffed incredulously. "Who the bloody hell have you been employed by, Weasley? She's not exactly small news."
"So she told me."
"You didn't do anything crazy, did you?" Hermione asked warily. "I mean, I've read various papers on withholding magic and all of them state that there is some sort of consequence, loss of control being the most common. In some cases, there can even be an outbreak of a horrible fever, which can sometimes become so high that the witch or wizard in question actually dies if they don't receive treatment. It can be really serious."
So her suspicion had been correct, Ginny mused to herself. It hadn't been an infection, but a result of her using her magic again. A part of her was relieved at the confirmation. At least she knew the cause. And at least she knew that it wouldn't happen again. Hopefully.
"You haven't seen a Jillandally Rasckle in America, have you, Ginny?" Luna broke in suddenly and Ginny turned to her, her well-worn radish earrings swinging lightly in her ears. Luna, out of all of them, had changed the least but Ginny didn't mind. Luna wouldn't be Luna if she wasn't eccentric and right now, she needed some eccentricity. "I did a report on them just the other day for the Quibbler and it would be so fantastic to hear from someone who's seen one."
Ginny shook her head slowly, a small smile on her lips. "I'm afraid I haven't, Luna. But when I head back, I'll keep an eyes out."
"Oh," she said, looking slightly disappointed. "But I'm glad that you're back. How long are you staying for?"
Ginny shrugged uneasily, feeling the stares of the others burning into her body at Luna's question. She should have known that it would get asked at some point, but it made it no easier to discuss. "A couple of days. A week at most. That's when I have to be back at work."
"Well, at least you've actually bothered to come this year," Hermione said eventually, her brown eyes sorrowful before her lips raised unexpectedly into a small smile. "It'll be good to have you at the ceremony tomorrow."
Ginny smiled an equally small smile back at her friend. "So, what's happened here?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject. "A lot, I'm assuming."
Malfoy chuckled. "Well, for one, I'm currently doing very well for myself at Gringotts," a boastful note entering his voice. "It was odd, working with goblins at first, but once you know how to work with them, they really make very good company. I also haven't seen my father in several years and as far as I know, he entered a comatose state that even the best healers haven't been able to bring him out of. I see my mother on occasion, but she's distant. Too busy worrying after my bastard of a father, I expect," he muttered resentfully. "I don't have any siblings to worry about, nor do I have a steady girlfriend of any sort. And that's my life in a nutshell."
Ginny turned to Neville. "And you, Neville?"
"Uh, I'm studying Herbology. I want to be a teacher."
"And he's doing very well," Hermione jumped in, a proud expression on her face. "First in his class."
Neville flushed slightly at the compliment and Ginny found herself smiling for her friend.
"I'm glad for you, Neville," she said warmly and he flushed an even brighter red under the comment.
"Thanks," he muttered.
"And what about you, Luna?"
"Me?" Luna looked somewhat startled. "Why, I'm working at the Quibbler, of course. You haven't been following it, by any chance, have you?"
Ginny shook her head. "I'm sorry to say that I haven't."
"Then I'll have to catch you up," Luna said firmly. "I'll bring the last couple of issues to the ceremony tomorrow and you can take them back to America with you. They can occupy you when you're not working."
"I, uh, thank you, Luna. Really," Ginny said, slightly surprised that Luna was willing to do something like that for her.
"The Quibbler's actually doing very well now," the blonde went on absently. "After the war, the magazine became so popular. I think it was because we discovered the Crumple Horned Snorkack soon after. It really was a wonderful discovery, though, and it was so much better than I had imagined."
Ginny finally turned to face Hermione, still slightly unsure as to what Hermione thought of her unexpected reappearance. "And you Hermione?"
Hermione shrugged. "I'm doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I work at the ministry mainly, though. In the Department for Wizarding Equality. The work can be slow," she shrugged, "but I'm making a difference, so in my opinion, it's perfect."
Ginny was sitting on the bed, her loose bedclothes resting comfortably on her skin as she allowed herself to relax for the first time in days. It was good, she realised, seeing her friends again. But it wasn't just that. It was that they had accepted her without resentment. They had forgiven her, allowed her back into their lives. She wasn't going to pretend that everything was as it had once been and she doubted that it would ever return to that, but what they all had now was different. It was stronger. Different. And it was good. Merlin, how could she have left all of this behind? How could she have abandoned all of them without a second thought? She no longer knew, but like she had said earlier, she wouldn't change what she had done. Not if she even got a second chance.
Ginny took a deep breath, forcing her mind to go blank as she focused back on her silent brunette friend who was sitting with her on the bed. It was the first time that they had been alone all evening, seeing as they were all staying at Neville's for the night, and it was, quite frankly, a relief to be alone with her. Out of all of her friends, Hermione was the one whose opinion mattered the most and Ginny wanted for her to understand why she left. Why she couldn't have possibly stayed even though she now recognised that there were different ways that she could have dealt with the problem. "So what happened between you and Ron?" Ginny asked quietly, hugging her pillow tightly.
Hermione sighed, fiddling with a few strands of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail. "He came home one day and I suddenly realized that he wasn't what I wanted anymore. He was over protective, condescending at times and generally annoying. He brooded constantly over Harry's death and your betrayal and I just decided that I couldn't handle it any more. I tried to get it back, whatever it was that we had. I really did, but nothing I did worked and despite my efforts, we drifted even further apart. So I left him and even though it's been more than eighteen months, we still don't talk. I nod to him at work and he nods to me and that's just how it is. I think that that's how it's always going to be," she finished, her voice slightly bitter.
Ginny hesitated in her reply. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing you could have done, I'm afraid."
Hermione wavered and Ginny exhaled heavily to herself. She knew what was coming. It had been coming all evening. "I can understand why you left, Ginny. Really, I can. But you have no idea what it did to your family. When you left, and there's no easy way to say this, but you… You broke them. Your mum and Fred had just died and then Harry, who was like a brother, a son, was gone as well. And then you disappeared without a trace, leaving only a note on the kitchen table. For months, Ron refused to talk about you. He even refused to say your name. Charlie and George kept coming around, hoping that we would have heard from you. They tried getting in touch with you, but all of their letters returned unopened. We never even knew if they had reached you.
"Your dad took it the worst, although I have to say that it wasn't just your disappearance that caused that. He buried himself in his work, never coming home, barely speaking. Even now, he stays to himself. Bill, I think, stayed the calmest about the whole situation and said simply that you would return when you were ready. Percy was very much the same, although he was a little cross at first. I think, though, that he also understands your need to get away, seeing as he did it himself. In the end, he said exactly the same words as Bill."
Ginny felt a wave of gratitude fall over her body at Hermione's words. Thank Merlin for Bill. And Percy. Bill and her had always gotten on well, especially when they had been younger and it seemed that even after her betrayal, he still understood her side of the story. But Percy? He was different. Very different. He had always been so aloof, so untouchable, especially to a young girl who barely knew any better. In fact, now that she thought about it, she had barely spoken to him as a child and now, she regretted not getting to know the brother who was standing up for her and she made a mental note to thank him at the next opportunity.
"And you?" Ginny found herself asking carefully. "How did you take it?"
"At first," Hermione said slowly, "I was surprised that you had gone to such lengths; I really hadn't expected you to pack up and leave. And then I was angry. For a long while, I resented your decision to leave. I resented your selfishness. I tried to understand, I really did, but in my eyes, your excuse still wasn't good enough to just leave your family and your friends without nothing but a letter to go on. Not to mention, you didn't even bother to stay in contact with any of us. So," she took a deep breath, "that's why I've been a little bit distant tonight."
"No, it's okay. Really. That's why I'm here. To apologise for acting like an idiot. Over the past few days," Ginny smiled wryly, "well, let's just say that I had the chance to think, truly think for the first time in a long while. I'm not going to pretend that what I did was correct, because it really wasn't and I'm also not going to pretend that what I did wasn't selfish, because it was probably the most selfish thing that I've ever done, but I'm not going to deny that it was one of the best decisions that I've made. I learned to be independent. I was allowed to heal. And I did it by myself. I have been given opportunities that a lot of other people don't have and am now a part of a group that is probably the best place for me, even though I didn't realise it at first," she added wryly. "I look back on my decisions now and I see so many different ways that I could have handled the situation, but I wouldn't change my path. Not anymore."
Hermione nodded slowly at Ginny's admission. "Where are you working, actually?" she asked curiously.
"Uh," Ginny hesitated, "officially, I work for a private event management company, but unofficially, and I probably shouldn't tell you this, I work for the Avengers Initiative. I'm their secretary."
Hermione's nearly fell off the bed. "The Avengers?" she said incredulously. "They're the only things that the muggle news talk about! Merlin, they're so big that even the Prophet comments on them from time to time. You know, apparently they're supposed to be coming to London later this week and everyone is freaking out, especially seeing as there's two new members or some rubbish like that." Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. "Do I even want to know how you landed a job like that?"
"It was an accident, actually," Ginny said amusedly. "And I totally forgot that they were coming here this week, but if you want, I could introduce you?"
Hermione eyes her suspiciously. "Really?"
Ginny snorted. "Of course. It would be easy. I have them all on speed dial."
Hermione smirked at her. "Well, seeing as you're offering, I might have to take you up on that. And speaking of your phone, yours is lighting up."
Ginny turned to it, perplexity etched on her face as she picked it up and looked at the number. Wanda Maximoff. Why was she calling? She hoped that everything was all right.
"Sorry, but do you mind if I take this?" Ginny asked suddenly and Hermione smiled a knowing, teasing smile at her. It was good to see again. A relief.
"Of course, Miss Secretary-to-the-most-famous-group-in-the-muggle-world," Hermione grinned.
Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly and placed the phone to her ear, pressing the 'accept' button as she did so. She hoped that she wasn't about to hear bad news.
"Wanda, what's up? Is everything okay?"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "I, yes, everything's fine. I just wanted to call to… apologise for earlier."
Ginny's expression softened. "Wanda, you don't have to worry about that."
"No, but I do." Wanda's voice was vehement in her reply. "I should have never said what I said to you. I shouldn't have assumed anything."
"It's fine. Honestly. And I can understand your worry, but you have nothing to stress about. The flight was fine and I'm fine. So relax!"
There was a weak chuckle before Wanda paused again, seemingly unsure of what to say in her final words. "I know that you're taking a break, but seeing as you're in England and we're visiting, do you think that we could meet up at some point?"
"I was planning on coming back with you all, anyway," Ginny said casually. "And that would be fine. Let me know when you arrive and we can arrange something." She hesitated for a moment. "And how's the rest of the team?" she asked awkwardly.
"Annoyed that you left without explanation, but I think that they understand. Or at least most of them understand. Pietro's still very… cross with you."
Ginny grimaced slightly.
"But it will be good to see you later this week. You can show us a little bit of where you live, even though everyone's already been to London," she continued somewhat reproachfully.
"All right then, I'll do my best, but don't expect anything fantastic. I never spent a lot of time in London."
"Who was that?" Hermione asked curious as Ginny hung up the phone a minute later.
"Wanda Maximoff."
Recognition dawned in Hermione's eyes and she perked up in interest. "She's the one who manipulates energy or something like that, yes? I remember the prophet doing a massive report on her a couple of days ago, using her as a general example of the threat that these new 'powered muggles' give. Apparently," Hermione said wryly, "they're a threat to our society."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "A threat to our society, huh? Are those Rita Skeeter's words?"
Hermione snorted contemptuously. "How'd you guess? But the truth of the matter is, is that her article sparked some serious debate in this side of the wizarding world– I don't know what it's all like in America – but on this side, people are actually taking her seriously. I swear, if she writes another article like that one, then Shacklebolt is going to have to do something about it."
Wanda sat by herself, her back against the wall, her phone placed carelessly at her side from her conversation with Ginny. She had just had that dream. Again. The one with the boy with the lightning shaped scar, the slithering shape of darkness that resembled a man, the nameless faces, and the flashing and whistling of the dangerously deceptive lights. She still had no idea what it meant or why she was having it and it was beginning to frustrate her.
Was it a vision that she was having? A premonition of what was to come? Or was it something that had happened in the past? But then and again, maybe the entire thing was something that her mind had created. But Wanda, although she had originally suspected that that might have been the case, no longer suspected that that was true. After all, she had figured out long ago that she didn't dream about useless, nonsensical things. She scowled to herself. No, she always dreamt about something that was relevant, no matter how terrible that relevance may be. But then and again, if it wasn't a creation that her mind had devised, a vision of the future or the past, then what was it? The only thing was, was that if it wasn't any of those things, then there was only one other possible option. Unfortunately, it was one that Wanda didn't believe for a second, because how could anything that she saw within the dream considered to be true?
She sighed as the thought drifted to the forefront of her mind anyway. A memory.
There was no way, though, that it could be possible. After all, boys with lightning shaped scars and figures comprised of only evil were nothing more than the figments of a wild imagination. But still, a part of her couldn't help but wonder… She distantly wondered what Ginny would think of the constant repetition of the horrifying dreams. The secretary was, after all, the only person whom she had told the content of the nightmares to. In all honesty, Wanda hadn't been expecting herself to reveal the contents of the dreams to anyone, but then, that one morning before she left for her first interrogation, she hadn't been able to help herself. The words had just spilled out of her. Wanda hadn't known how Ginny would react to her dream, but what she hadn't expected, was the understanding that had rung through Ginny's words. And it hadn't been false understanding either. But then and again, Wanda believed that the redheaded secretary was not as naïve as she pretended to be. Because Wanda had seen, on occasion, past the blank poker face that was always carefully arranged on Ginny's face. Granted, it hadn't been often, but when the mask did slip away, Wanda had seen the stricken, grieving young woman underneath and she shifted guiltily as the memory of her own harsh words from earlier that day filled her mind. Selfish, Wanda had said. Arrogant. But what had really struck her had been the way that Ginny had looked at her when she had uttered those vicious words and Wanda felt even more remorseful at her rashness.
Wanda had, admittedly, tried to enter her head towards the beginning, when she hadn't yet known her. More than once, as a matter of fact, but every single time she had failed to receive even a small memory. It wasn't that there was a barrier that was protecting Ginny's mind, it was just that everything was so intensely and densely guarded that it would take more than an hour to try and unravel the encrypted thoughts.
She smiled wryly to herself at the abstract thought. Encrypted thoughts. Was such a thing even possible? Wanda didn't really know, although she did suppose that if she really tried, then Ginny Prewett's thoughts would be open to her. The only thing was, though, was that she wasn't even sure if she wanted to read Ginny's thoughts. The woman clearly had secrets, secrets that she kept well guarded, and after the secretary had stood up for her the other night with the Avengers and when she had allowed Wanda to dress her and the way that she had looked only earlier that day… Well, even if someone ordered her to do it, Wanda no longer wanted to invade Ginny's privacy like that.
She stood up slowly, her vision blurring slightly at the edges and she grasped the wall to steady herself. It seemed, much to her annoyance that the after effects of the dream hadn't worn off yet. She padded lazily into the kitchen and yawned widely, as she poured herself a glass of water from the tap. She wondered what she was going to do now, seeing as there was no way that she was going to be able to go back to sleep. She could always train. The gym was, after all, always open and Natasha was constantly bugging her about practicing more and refining her skills. Besides, a good session would probably be able to burn off all of her negative energy and maybe be able to make her feel just that little bit better.
Yes, she decided. That's what she would do.
It didn't take her long to dress in some loose fitting exercise clothes and fill up her water bottle. She wondered what she would do at the gym. She could always go to the simulation room that was reserved just for the Avengers or she could run on the treadmill, but then and again, unlike Pietro, running had never really been her thing. She had never enjoyed the thumping of her feet on the pavement or the heavy feeling that came with the repetitive movement for too long or the horrible breathlessness. Her heart ached slightly at the thought of her brother. She had barely seen him ever since she had come back from the interrogation. She had, of course, turned up to his extravagant party that same evening, but they had barely spoken. Instead, he would just shoot her these sad looks of hurt and betrayal and Wanda had allowed it as she watched him flirt with the many girls that had surrounded his side. She no longer knew who the coward was anymore. Was it her? Or was it Pietro?
She sighed and stepped out of her room, the door automatically locking behind her.
"Wanda."
Wanda jumped, her power flooding her veins in her sudden fright.
"Pietro!" she gasped, turning around to face her brother. "Don't do that to me!" And she hit him playfully on the arm like she used to.
But Pietro didn't react. Instead, he just stared at her intently, knowingly. "You had another one, didn't you. Another nightmare."
Wanda didn't even try to deny it. "You know?"
"I always know. When you're in pain, when you're sad and unhappy…" Pietro paused and ran a hand anxiously through his hair. Wanda raised an eyebrow at his unexpected nervousness. Well, that was interesting. "Someone…" he continued uncomfortably, "told me recently that you think that I'm not allowing you to be independent. Is that true? Do you really feel that way? Because God Wanda! I can't just watch you from the sidelines as you torture yourself with these nightmares! That is what brothers are here for! I am here to help you!" He stepped forward, grasping her arms in his. "I promised to protect you, Wanda. Why aren't you letting me do that anymore?"
"I…" Wanda opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She tried again. "I-I wanted to show you, to show everyone, that I can take care of myself." She wriggled herself out of his grasp and started pacing up the hallway and towards the gym. "You are the best brother any sister could ask for. You have always been there for me. You protected me, you gave me the food when there was none and yes! I do know about all of the nights that you went hungry even though you told me that you had already eaten! But it's no longer just us two anymore. We no longer have to rely on each other. Pietro," Wanda stopped walking and spun around to face her brother, "we are surrounded by people, people who for the first time, treat us as their equals. We're no longer just 'the twins' or the 'experiments' or the 'test subjects.' We're Avengers. I-I didn't mean to hurt you, Pietro, I just wanted to try and make you understand that I've changed. That we've both changed." She looked at him imploringly, almost begging him to say something; his silence and stillness was unnerving. But he said nothing before zipping away a second later, a trail of silver lingering behind him, and once again, Wanda wondered who the real coward in this situation was.
It took her more than a little bit of time to pull herself together from her discussion with Pietro before she walked slowly and contemplatively the rest of the way to the gym. She met no one on her way there, but she did see the occasional agent coming in from late night training walking around the place and she decided that she rather liked the facility at night. It was nowhere near as busy, crowded, or serious. In fact, the aura surrounding the place could even be described as being strangely peaceful.
She padded lightly into the main gym and walked to the very back, where the simulation studio was located, before hesitantly entering the control room. She had only ever done this once before, so she hoped that she would remember how to use the various controls properly. She lifted a hand uncertainly above one of the delicate screens. Maybe she should get Ginny after all. Besides, she would be the only person out of all of the people that she knew here at the facility that wouldn't ask questions or for justification of her actions. But then and again, Ginny had been disturbed enough nights of week as it was with all of the extra assignments…
Mind made up, Wanda pressed the screen confidently and was immediately assaulted with the bright lights that shone from the technology. Although unsure of what she was doing at first, she quickly figured out the program and created something that she was sure that she would be able to handle by herself. She put the simulation on a timer and placed one of the monitors that would assess her vital signs and offer termination of the program should it be too difficult around one of her slim wrists. Making sure that she had everything under control, Wanda entered the large, panel-filled studio, the timer on her band counting down the seconds that she had until the simulation started.
Three. Wanda briefly wondered who had spoken to Pietro about his smothering behaviour. Maybe it had been Ginny. Two. The redhead did seem to be one of the few people that Pietro actually listened to and whose opinion he actually valued. But then and again, Pietro valued a lot of things, many of which Wanda had no idea about and she wasn't so callous to go to digging through his mind to find out. One. The panels came to her life in front of her and she called her own red magic to the tips of her fingertips.
Hey everyone! I hoped that you enjoyed this chapter. It was a little on the slow side, but this chapter is pivotal to future events. Promise.
If any of you find any mistakes with spelling or anything like that, then don't hesitate to tell me and I will go through it! I'm just super tired and I don't know if I missed anything this week or not.
Thanks for all of the new favourites, follows, and reviews! They all make my day!
To the three guests: I'm really glad that you're all enjoying the story so far and thanks for reviewing! For the one that said that there were a few spelling mistakes with the last chapter, thank you!
I hope that everyone has a great week! (I have an interview for uni coming up! I'm so excited)
HauntedCinders
