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The Wizard and the Witch Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 04:05:05 +0000 UTCWhen Wanda opened her eyes again, she felt like she’d just been cured of a horrible headache. She couldn’t remember her head actually hurtin
When Wanda opened her eyes again, she felt like she’d just been cured of a horrible headache. She couldn’t remember her head actually hurting, but she felt a strange kind of peace that implied it had been, and now it wasn’t. She sat up.
At this point, she realized that she wasn’t in Harry’s bed anymore. The floor under her was hard marble. Looking around, she was in a train station. Immediately, she frowned.
“I don’t like train stations,” she muttered aloud.
“Sorry. I didn’t know that.”
Until he spoke, Wanda didn’t realize that she wasn’t alone. But somehow, Harry was there. He was sitting on a bench. When he saw her looking at him, he invited her to join him, patting the wood next to his butt.
Feeling supremely confused, Wanda slowly stood up and came over to do just that.
“I picked this train station because I have some past experiences here,” Harry said. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can change it. I’m capable of that.”
Capable of what? Wanda thought about asking.
Instead, she said: “It’s fine. I just have a few bad memories of one.”
Edinburgh, Scotland. That was where Thanos’s grunts had tracked down her and Vision. It wasn’t where her lover died… But it was where everything began.
This place was a different train station, although she felt like she’d seen it before. It took Wanda a moment to place it. It was part of King’s Cross, London’s largest station, where she and Vision had once arrived for a weekend getaway.
Wanda reached out, brushing her hands over the wood of the bench. “We’re not really here.”
“No, we’re not,” Harry said.
He went silent for a moment, then laughed and said more. “Sorry. I’m used to being on the other side of things, and I remember how annoying getting half truths and mysterious answers can be. Yet there I go, doing the same thing. We’re in our minds, Wanda.”
“Our?” Wanda asked. “Not yours? Not mine?”
“Both,” Harry confirmed. “Something was messing with yours. I wanted to stop it. In the process, our minds… connected, if you will.”
Something messing with her mind? It HAD to be the Darkhold. Wanda remembered the visions and voices of her kids. It was such a horrible memory, she couldn’t even think about the wonderful sex that preceded it.
“You tried to stop something messing with my mind?” she said. “Tried to stop it how?”
“With magic, of course,” Harry said. “I’m a wizard.”
Wanda’s jaw dropped open. He laughed.
“Don’t look so shocked!” he said. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? A scarlet one specifically. That book that’s sniffing around your brain isn’t interested in keeping secrets. It's screaming out for the Scarlet Witch to accept it; for YOU to accept it.”
Wanda’s head was spinning. A wizard? Could he be trusted? What if he was just another Agatha, stringing her along?
No. Wanda shut down her overactive imagination hard. The couple that she’d stayed with weren’t like that. No matter what they really were, wizards or witches or magicians or aliens, she believed that she knew them. Harry didn’t want to hurt her.
“Did you stop the Darkhold?” she asked.
“No,” Harry said. “I just slowed it down.”
“Of course.” Wanda looked down. “It’s extremely powerful. It can let me travel between dimensions, if I learn how to use it.”
“Or if it finds a way to use you,” Harry said darkly. “Wanda, I’ve got a lot of experience with magical artifacts that make big promises. One almost got my close friend killed when she was eleven. Anything this powerful won’t enjoy being controlled. It will want to CONTROL.”
Wanda wouldn’t look at him. “I know that. But if I can stay ahead of it, I can make my dreams come true. I need its power to be real.”
Harry’s hand settled onto her shoulder. Surprised and feeling a bit of untimely arousal (his touch reminded her of what those hands had been doing before this) she was forced to turn toward him.
“Show me what’s troubling you,” he said.
“Show… you?” Wanda said.
“Yes. We’re inside our minds,” Harry said. “I could conjure any of my memories for both of us to experience together right now. And if I help you, we can do the same with your memories.”
Wanda hesitated. She believed him, which was why she was nervous. She had experienced plenty of awful days, things that she was still running away from. When she still had Vision, she had been working through many of them, approaching a healthy life again.
Now, the absolute worst memories she possessed were of losing HIM.
Still, slowly, Wanda stood up. Harry’s hand was still on her shoulder. She liked the way he was looking at her: like a confidant. A friend. A lover.
“How do we do this?” she asked.
“Just think,” Harry instructed. “I’ll handle the rest.”
She showed him everything. The scenes appeared right in front of them, Wanda and Harry watching like invisible spectators. Harry saw how Hydra experimented on her and her brother. He watched her brother die. He saw Lagos, and the war between friends that followed her mistake. Then, he saw her lose Vision. Once, twice, thrice…
Wanda nearly started crying, but Harry squeezed her hand. He watched everything dutifully. Toward the end he started sneaking glances at the corners of the memory frowning a bit, but he never stopped paying attention.
By the end, Harry had seen the worst of her entire life. Even Westview.
“I’m a monster, aren’t I?” Wanda said.
They were back in King’s Cross. When the last memory played, Harry returned them there sensing that the sight of Westview was making her uncomfortable. Somehow, like an echo from far away, Wanda heard a voice that spoke with an odd insistency telling her: “Of course it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong. Relax; let go.”
“You did a monstrous thing,” Harry said, his voice cutting off the other one, which if he could hear he was ignoring. “But you did it out of grief, and grief is powerful. I once watched it turn a housewife into one of the deadliest fighters I’ve ever seen. When you realized what you were doing, you put a stop to it. More than anything else, that’s what matters.”
“What does he know?” whispered the other voice. “He’s saying it was your fault in the first place, isn’t he? It wasn’t. It was the world’s fault. You knew you could make a better world, so you did. Do it again. I’ll help.”
“I did something wrong,” Wanda said. She wasn’t sure which voice she was talking to.
“You did,” Harry said. “You did a hell of a lot right before that, too. I saw your memories. You were an Avenger.”
“But I could make you so much more,” said the other voice.
Wanda remembered Westview. It was fresh in her mind now because she just relived it. She pictured the citizen’s faces as they saw her. To them, she was nothing but a villain. A slaver. A monster. Her voice cracked as she said: “What— What can I do now, after what I did?”
“So many more great things!” said the voice.
“Your best,” Harry said. “And hope that it's good enough, because that’s all any of us can ever do.”
The other voice screamed without warning. It was a sound of pain and anger. Perhaps it knew that it had lost.
Red energy surged around Wanda. Her powers were linked with the mind, so even here she could call on them when needed. Harry pulled out that length of wood she’d seen right before she passed out. Now, with time to study it, Wanda recognized what it was. A magic wand.
The scream got louder. The windows around them shattered from the pitch, but Wanda shielded them from the falling shards with her powers. Something crawled into sight.
“That… What IS that?” she asked, horror entering her voice.
“You know what it is,” Harry said. “That’s what’s been trying to lure you. That is what it truly is. Just like a Horcrux, once you peel away the outside, you’re left with an abomination.”
Wanda didn’t know what a Horcrux was, but she did understand that this was the Darkhold. They were facing its essence, and it was NOTHING like a book.
It was hard to even describe. Its shape was roughly like a dragon, except it had two and a half heads. One head was nothing but a dead severed stump. It was covered all over by rotting and peeling flesh, which mixed with shadows that seemed to be an equal part of its body. The eyes were a malevolent purple. Wanda was filled with reversion. She was nearly coaxed by THAT?
The beast’s mouth didn’t move, but it spoke with the same voice she’d been hearing.
“Are you giving up on your children?” it asked. “I thought you were a good mother. It turns out you’re nothing but a horrible hag. You let them die. You’re letting them die again and again, right now, across so many dimensions. Are you happy with yourself?”
“Mommy!” came her children’s voices, emanating out of the monster’s stomach as if it had just feasted on them. “Mommy mommy mommy!”
“Do not use their voices, demon!” Wanda growled.
Red power swirled around her hands. She longed to rip this thing to shreds, but something was stopping her. It was fear, she realized. Not of what it could do to her. No, it was an irrational fear, hearing her children’s voices, that they were somehow inside of this monster, and she would hurt them by attacking.
Harry pushed her just hard enough to make her stumble.
“You made a mistake,” he told the Darkhold. It looked at him with pure hate, despising this man who had temporarily locked it away and was leading its prey astray. “You should never have appeared here?”
“And why is that, puny wizard?” growled the monster. “Are you saying that you’ll stop me?”
“That’s your real form, isn’t it?” Harry said. “By appearing here, you exposed yourself to danger. And no, to answer your question, I won’t stop you. She will.”
He pointed his wand at Wanda and hit her in the back with a spell. It had the strangest effect Wanda had ever felt. All it did was make her a little bit happier, influencing her emotions in a powerful way. All of a sudden, her fear disappeared.
In its place was the raw ANGER she’d been feeling. It was clear to her now that this thing had been using her children against her. It was inside her head, stealing their voices to whisper in her ears.
One of the heads opened its mouth to breath flames at them. Just as the fire was about to burst out, its head collapsed, its neck twisting. Red energy crumpled it like a tin can, and the fire—which had nowhere to escape—created an explosion that utterly obliterated it.
The remaining head screamed. Whatever was in front of them finally showed fear. It was powerful, in a way, but Wanda could see that it needed a host. Its true power would have come from bringing her under its thumb, wielding her as a tool in its evil.
Do your best, Harry had told her. Well, when it came to something like this, he was quite good.
The monster tried to run. Big leathery wings appeared on its back, flying toward away as fast as it could. Wanda twisted her hands. She caught it, making it fly slower, then stopping it entirely. Wanda’s red lights enveloped its whole body. Then, she moved her hands apart.
The screaming was back, this time so loud that it shook the whole imaginary train station. The decaying flesh started to rip apart. Instead of a gruesome noise, it sounded like a booking being ripped in half, first the pages tearing and then the cover ripping apart. Harry watched with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Wanda was smiling too; she had been since he used whatever spell that had been on her.
“Goodbye,” Wanda said. “Never try to use me again.”
The Darkhold had no choice but to listen, since it was going to be destroyed forever.
The beast was put down for good, its final scream destroying the entire area they were in. The train station disappeared. All of a sudden Wanda’s eyes opened. She was awake again.
They were back in Harry’s bedroom. Nothing was different except a puddle of what looked like raw oil on the floor, pitch black and highly reflective.
“Is that…” Wanda said.
“What’s left of the Darkhold? I believe so. I wouldn’t touch it, though,” Harry said.
Wanda looked over and noticed that he was sitting beside her on the bed, just like he had been when they were rudely interrupted… meaning naked and unbelievably handsome, moisture from her mouth and pussy still shining on his dick.
“I know that wasn’t exactly expected, but great work, Wanda,” Harry said. “Sorry about lying to you, too, or at least hiding things. Fleur and I weren’t sure how you would react—”
He was forced to shut up as Wanda pounced on him. She rolled him over so that he was flat on the bed, her on top, and kissed him passionately. Their kiss went on for half a minute before she pulled her mouth away, spit running from her lips down to his.
They looked at each other, Wanda panting, before she leaned in again. Harry understood now.
There would be time for words later. At the moment, Wanda was finishing what she started. And she was going to enjoy the hell out of it.
