"They saved my life!" Rogue's impassioned shout was the first thing Wanda became aware of. She stirred, groaning softly. She really wasn't in the mood for arguments. Her head was too full.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Her father hadn't taken her collapse well. Harry's wizard friends had interposed themselves between him and Harry's own crumpled form. Though they looked weary and worn, none of them were willing to give an inch. Her father was furious at their defiance and was using sharpened pieces of metal… for emphasis. Rogue had slotted herself in front of the wizards, equally as vehement in her defense of them.
"If it weren't for them, I'd still be down there! They risked their lives fighting the Order, and… and Luna's my friend."
"I think that's quite enough." Xavier's voice rang from the doorway, and Wanda relaxed. The Professor wouldn't let things get out of hand. While the Professor was wheelchair bound, he was the only one among them who her father listened to. No matter how powerful she or Jean got, they'd always be 'children' in his eyes. Charles Xavier, however, he saw as an equal. An equal he butted heads with, but an equal nonetheless.
"Charles." Her father snapped, irate. "Don't tell me you trust these wizards."
"I trust them." Wanda said, rising unsteadily to her feet. She wobbled, in a blink, Pietro was at her side, steadying her.
"What happened?" Her father asked, concern for her momentarily overriding his suspicions.
"I'm alright." She assured him. "I've just… learned a few things."
Xavier regarded her with a knowing look. "Would you care to share with the class?"
Harry rose, Ginny instantly breaking formation to wrap him in a hug. Wanda glanced at him. "Its him." She said.
"Him?" Her father repeated.
"My dreams. They're about him. This is Harry Potter."
"That doesn't mean that he's trustworthy." Her father scoffed. "He's still a wizard."
"Do you doubt Fawkes' judgement of him?" Jean asked, knowing her point would be brushed aside. "He didn't just bring him to us, he granted him a feather."
"I trust him." Wanda said firmly. She thought of what she'd just seen, of that version of her, the one that fell. "More than I trust myself."
"That much?" Xavier's eyes twinkled. Wanda nodded.
"If I may." Harry interrupted, stepping through his entourage of wizards, who seemed reluctant to let him through. "I understand your suspicion. I know that wizards have done… horrible things to mutants, to non-magical people, to everyone in this world. I also understand being protective of your daughter. I have kids too, and if anything happened to them…" Harry shook his head. "I can assure you, it wouldn't be pretty. So I don't take offense in your suspicion. Just give us the chance to prove ourselves."
Wanda wanted to roll her eyes. God, Nat had been coaching him on diplomacy, hadn't she? It made sense, they'd known they needed to recruit the disparate factions of the world, and Harry was the perfect leader for them. Worse, his words worked. Her father, for all his prejudice, softened, just partially.
"If you really are worthy of our trust." He said. "You wouldn't object to allowing my friend to examine your mind, would you?"
"Not at all." Harry said easily.
"I've already seen his mind." Wanda snapped. "Every facet and corner, I know him better than I know myself."
"Wanda, its okay." Harry put a hand on her shoulder, and she instantly felt calmer. She breathed deeply. "It'll make explaining everything much easier."
"Yeah, honestly, fair." Ron muttered. "The whole story sounds barmy when you tell it."
"This will only take a moment." Xavier said. Wanda had a feeling it would take quite a bit longer, and she was right.
Several minutes later, Xavier opened his eyes. "Oh." He said.
"Yeah." Wanda nodded with a satisfied smirk. "Oh."
-----
Harry watched on as Thor embraced Valkyrie, the Asgardian they'd saved from the Hogwarts dungeons. The reunion of the two friends was touching, but Harry's attention was quickly diverted as Lily and T'Chone made beelines to him. For a moment, the worries of the world slipped away as he hugged his children. He hadn't been completely bullshitting Erik 'Magneto' Lehnsherr, when he'd implied the lengths he'd go to for them. It was almost overwhelming. The relief he felt, to have them back in safety, was profound.
Reluctantly he let them go. He saw Natasha, staring at them with shining eyes. Glancing around he saw his friends… almost all of them now. Ron and Neville talking with Hermione. Ginny and Luna hugging, with Rogue at Luna's side, but keeping her distance. T'Challa teasing Shuri as she fussed over T'Chone. Wanda approached the group, and Nat tore towards her, the two women reuniting with a fierce hug.
Harry smiled. This was good.
But there were still people he needed to bring home.
"Harry!" Thor's voice cut through the crowd. Harry's smile didn't fade one bit as Thor approached. He looked lighter now, a burden of guilt had been lifted from him. "I'm in your debt." He said.
Harry shook his head. "No, you're not. We're both here for the same reason, you don't owe me anything."
Thor's eyes glinted. "You should reconsider. I think you'll like how I'd repay you." Harry internally rolled his eyes at the direction Wanda's mind immediately veered, to Thor's companion.
"Oh?"
"I've heard that you've received a gift." Thor said. "The beginnings of a new wand."
"Yes." Harry palmed his pocket, which was warm with the heat of Fawkes' gifted feather. "Though I need to figure out how to actually make the wand."
"No need!" Thor clapped his shoulder. One by one, eyes turned to them, the wizards watching the interaction curiously. "I've got something better in mind than a flimsy piece of wood."
"Like what?"
He held out his hand, and Stormbreaker leapt across the room and into his grip. "It's time we pay a visit to Nidavellir."
-----
The Bifrost opened, depositing the three of them into the forge. The occupants gaped at them for a moment, then- "It's the rebel prince!" A young Asgardian shouted. "Sound the-" His voice was cut off with a gurgle as a sword sliced through his neck.
"This is the rightful king of Asgard." It was Frandal. Harry knew the blonde Asgardian as one of Thor's 'Warriors Three', but in this world, he played the role of double agent. "You owe him your allegiance."
Scattered skirmishing broke out across the forge, as those loyal to Thor took advantage of the stupefaction of Hela's people. It helped that the Dwarves were firmly on Thor's side, and they were far more imposing than their names suggested. The battle was quick, leaving Harry free to observe their surroundings in awe. It was just as Thor had described it, yet his words had been insufficient in conveying the sheer scale. The workshop that unfolded before them was larger than any room he'd seen. He walked towards a window, which looked down onto the neutron star the facility orbited. The star was oddly small, shining with an earie light that reminded him more of the moon than the sun. Even from this remote vantage point he could feel the pull of its gravity.
"If we're going to do this." One of the dwarves- Eitri- said. "We need a guarantee of protection."
"From her?" Valkyrie scoffed. "Where's your honor? We all risk our lives to fight her."
"That's not how this works, Valkyrie." Thor reprimanded her gently. "These people are my subjects, and they are entitled to my protection." Thor glanced at Harry, with a question in his eyes.
"If this is what it promises to be." Harry said. "I should be able to make sure that no one enters Nidavellir without your permission, ever again." Something in his words convinced the dwarves, as they set to work immediately. The mechanisms of the forge began to turn with a slow precision. An avalanche of focused light was beamed in, triggering a chain reaction. Boilers and pipes ignited, and soon molten metal was pooling in a vat. Harry stepped forward at that point, opening his hand to reveal the feather that rested in his palm. With a puff of magic, he sent it fluttering through the air. It landed in the vat, and the Dwarves were knocked off their feet as a column of fire erupted from it, carving into the ceiling.
"It's time! Pour it!" Eitri shouted. They surged back to their feet, pouring the metal into a mold. It sat for a few minutes, before they carefully pried the mold open. A staff clattered to the ground, still glowing red with heat. Even from a distance, Harry could feel it calling for him. "This is Lævateinn." Eitri said. "The Wounding Wand."
Harry held out his hand, and the staff rose into the air. He hadn't even touched it, yet it was so responsive to him, responding to his will almost before he conceptualized it. It drifted towards him as it cooled, the glowing metal slowly turning grey. "I don't know exactly how that feather will affect it." Eitri admitted. "But by that reaction earlier, I'd say this will pack quite a punch."
"That is saying something, coming from you." Thor remarked. Eitri grinned wolfishly.
"Its perfect." Harry said. "I can already feel it." The call of the staff was so strong, he could wait no longer. The staff rocketed into his hand. He needn't have worried about the staff's lingering heat. Flames engulfed him instantly, rolling down his body like a liquid, but they didn't burn him. It felt incredible. The stolen wand that he'd been using, that was nothing. The Elder Wand had been powerful, but it hadn't been attuned to him like this. Lævateinn felt like an extension of his body, as much a part of him as his hand was. It felt natural, it felt like an old friend. It felt like his old wand, his first wand. That bond was paired with power indeed. In his hands was the power of a dying star, and of rebirth. Death and life in balance, forged together by fire.
Harry held the staff up high, and the flames retreated. He felt like he could do anything. He brought the staff down to the floor, striking it with a resounding gong. He had no doubts that his will would be enacted when he boomed- "Fidelius!"
-----
"Sep!" His mum rasped, wrapping him in a hug. He'd never seen his mum so haggard, like he could feel her bones through her skin. "Are you okay, I was- I was looking for you."
He could tell her the truth, that he was saying goodbye to Lily and T'Chone, his newfound family members who were trying to tear down the world he knew. If he told her, it would invite questions, questions he didn't know the answer to. "I was hiding." He said, and it wasn't a lie.
"Do you have your potion? We're leaving."
"No… I'm out." He said lamely.
His mum sighed, slipping a hand into a pocket that he'd never noticed before, and retrieving a small, blood red stone. "Mum… what is that?" She didn't answer. Instead, she sliced her palm open with wordless magic. Blood flowed over the stone, instantly turning into a thin, clear-gold substance, which she collected in a flask. After several seconds of this, she healed the gash and gulped down the elixir before handing it to him. Septimius gazed in astonishment as his mum seemed to make an instant recovery, vitality returning to her. Numbly, he followed suit, and was surprised at the familiar taste and texture. "Wait. Is this my potion?" As confused as he was, there was a sense of unease in his gut. Perhaps T'Chone and Lily's warnings were getting to him, but whatever answers his mum had for him, he didn't think they'd be good.
His mum nodded. "Come, Sep. I don't like what's happening here. I need to speak to Albus as soon as he's revived." She took his arm, leading him along.
They had almost made it to the entrance hall when they were intercepted. "Ah, Lily." Professor Riddle said coolly. "You're just in time. I'm gathering everyone in the Great Hall."
"We won't be attending, Tom." His mum said, equally cool. There was a tension between them that Septimius didn't understand. They were all on the same side… right? "Septimius has been through quite an ordeal… and I need to break some news to him."
Riddle frowned. "My condolences, to both of you." He said, casting further confusion in Septimius' mind. Condolences? For what? "But consider, it might be a great comfort to you both to have companionship in these times."
His mum grabbed his shoulder, physically placing herself between them. "We'll have to decline." There was something in Riddle's eyes that seemed to want to fight her on this, but he seemed to think the better of it.
"Very well. Safe travels… Ms. Evans."
They left the castle, stepping into the cool night. It seemed far too quiet after the chaos of the evening. "Mum." He asked in a hushed tone. "What was that all about?"
"I'll tell you when we get there, Sep." She said, in a tone that better fit the drained woman he'd seen her as earlier.
"Get where?"
"Nurmengard."
-----
Septimius tried to follow the conversation, but it was as if cotton were in his ears. They were in Grindelwald's war room- which was dominated by a massive round table that right now only seated four people. Somehow, one of those four was him, by virtue of the fact that his mum refused to let him leave her side.
His father was dead. He should feel bad about it, he should be devastated. But no, he just felt… numb.
"I'm going to murder that snake." Grindelwald snarled, before shaking his head violently. "No. He'll wish he were dead when I'm through with him." Dumbledore's rage seemed to be simmering embers, rather than Grindelwald's inferno, but perhaps that was just because he had more time to process Riddle's betrayal. It was starting to make sense. Septimius thought distantly. He doubted that things would have gone well for them, had they stayed at Hogwarts. Still, there were blinding holes in his understanding, and he had the two most powerful wizards in existence in the room with him.
"But… why?" His mum asked, and Septimius silently seconded her question. Was Riddle betraying the Order for the same reasons that Lily and T'Chone were? But then, hadn't Lily been running from Riddle earlier? Or was that a ploy. It made his head hurt.
"He's an opportunistic, conniving snake." Grindelwald spat. "There's nothing more to it."
"He's planning something." His mum said. "He's gathering everyone in the Great Hall. I don't think its benign."
"Almost certainly not." Dumbledore said. "We'll need to interrupt his plans. And a rooster."
"A rooster?" Septimius said dumbly, before shaking his head. That wasn't important.
"We'll need more elixir." Grindelwald added. "I don't want to take our chances tonight."
"Wait, what elixir?" Septimius asked. It was an impertinent question, but he might never get an answer if he didn't ask now. "What is it that I've been taking?"
Grindelwald scoffed. "That's your mess, Albus."
"I suppose there's no helping it." Dumbledore relented, pulling another blood-red stone from his robes. "This, Mr. Snape, is the Philosopher's Stone."
"I've been… drinking the Elixir of Life?" He asked faintly, to dead silence. "What's wrong with me?"
His mum choked on a sob. "Mum? What's going on?"
"I'm sorry." She spoke. "This is… all my fault."
"Its not your fault that I'm sick." He shook his head. "I just want to know what-"
"It is." She said, more firmly. "And you have a right to know what I've done to you." Past his notice, Dumbledore and Grindelwald slipped out of the room. "You know that your father and I… never had a good relationship." Septimius nodded dumbly. "I tried to get out of it before you were born. I cast a curse on myself."
"A curse?"
"Wither my womb." She spat the words. "It should have made it impossible for me the bear children. But combined with fertility potions…"
"You still had me." He said, numb.
"You were so sick." She warbled. "And when I held you in my arms, that first time, I realized I couldn't let you die. I loved you from the moment I saw you, and I'd do anything to save you."
He felt ill. "I never should have been born. Maybe you should have just let me-"
"No!" His mum sobbed, clutching at him. "Don't say that, Sep! Don't say that. It's all me. All my fault. You're innocent. And I've been trying to make it right, all this time!"
"I hate to break this up." Grindelwald's dry, unapologetic voice crept through the door. "But there's been a development."
"What could possibly-"
"Hela's here." Grindelwald said, deadpan. Septimius flinched at the name, which struck his mum dumb. "And she's… different."
It felt like an out of body experience, walking out to the corridor, peering through the window. It was clear where the ward boundary was, because it was where the mass of Dementors stopped. The faint glow of patronuses that Grindelwald's men had summoned seem totally insufficient for the weight of the horde. The light, however, was enough to illuminate her- the Queen of Asgard, the Goddess of Death, the one that wizards dare not speak of. She was standing at the ward boundary, hand outstretched, and as her hand touched the wards, they shattered. Like they were nothing.
"Something's changed." Dumbledore said, his voice grave.
"She tore through those wards like they were parchment." Grindelwald echoed. One by one, the lights of the patronuses went out, and Septimius soon lost track of the goddess. Occasionally, there was a burst of blue light, followed by flashes of green and explosions. Each flash was closer than the last.
"I fear." Dumbledore said. "That this may be the end." He took Grindelwald's hand, who squeezed back silently. Then the Goddess was upon them, appearing from another flash of blue. He hadn't actually heard her described, not in any detail. In this moment of terror, he found himself oddly detached, picking out features. She was tall and pale, with regal armor and fierce, burning green eyes. She had a shadow of sorts, a black silhouette that flickered about her like a candle flame.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald reacted in a flash. Dumbledore summoned quicksilver, while Grindelwald hurled a mass of spells. His mum grabbed him and pulled him back into the war room. As she closed the door behind them, he saw the Goddess' shadow reach out, batting away Grindelwald's curses. Its dark hand passed through Dumbledore's quicksilver, instantly tarnishing it. Dumbledore stepped back, but he was too slow, and the shadow grabbed his wrist. He shuddered, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, he seemed to age before his eyes- skin wrinkling, hair greying- the door slammed shut. His mum cast wards on it, but Septimius wasn't stupid, he knew they wouldn't hold.
They were going to die. And despite his previous words, he realized he didn't want to. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live. Tears pricked his eyes, and his mind seized on one last hope. He fished the mirror out from his pocket. "Lily! T'Chone!" He shouted into it. "Please, it's the Goddess! She's going to kill us! Please send help!"
There was no response. "Sep, what are you doing?" His mum asked.
"I'm calling for help!" He said, shaking. "I met the people who infiltrated Hogwarts today. They said-" He cut himself off. There wasn't time to explain, no way he could possibly get her to understand with the time they had left. "I don't want to die."
"You won't." She vowed, reaching into that secret pocket, and fishing out two items. The first was a small notebook, and the second was the Philosopher's Stone. "I promise." She placed them in his hands. "Keep them safe."
He stuffed them into his pockets, again grabbing the mirror with a white-knuckled grip. The noises behind the door stopped. Then, the door rotted away, and Hela stepped through. Through the doorway, he saw a pile of dust and bones- all that was left of the great Albus Dumbledore. Around the Goddess, the world seemed to degrade. The wood of the doorframe and table rotted, while the stone cracked and crumbled. She held her palm to his mum, the green of the killing curse at her fingertips, but paused as her shadow leaned in, seemingly saying something in her ear. "I don't care how important she is." She scoffed. "She's an abomination, and I will destroy her."
"Kill me." His mum declared, bringing Hela up short. "I deserve it." She continued. "But please, spare my son. He's innocent. Please, don't kill him."
The Goddess chuckled at the display, unmoved. Almost casually, she sent a spear at his mum, impaling her throat. Septimius wailed, rushing to his mother, dropping the mirror in his grief. "No! No! Please, mum! Mum! Mum!" His vision blurred from tears as he made it to her crumbled form, his robes stained with her blood. She couldn't even speak; her lips were moving silently. He couldn't read them through the tears, but he knew the words anyway. I love you.
He sobbed, and just like that, his grief turned to rage. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, brandishing it with futile fury. "Sectumsempra!" He shouted, knowing the spell from one of his father's old books. The Goddess laughed; the spell had done nothing, but at least he'd gone down fighting. "Sectum-" He started to repeat, but he was brought short by the oncoming green light. He winced, bracing himself for his fate. He was dead.
Except, he wasn't. The spell had hit him, and it had rebounded, colliding with the beam that Hela continued to send at him. The clash created an expanding orb right in front of his chest. He stared, frozen in awe and fear at the sight, while the Goddess seemed furious at this defiance, pouring more and more power into the sphere. The light grew stronger, until it illuminated the entire room, aside from Hela's shadow, which seemed even darker in contrast.
A breaking point was reached as the orb fractured, the sickly green magic exploding out in all directions. Septimius' vision was enveloped in light. For a long moment, he heard nothing and felt nothing. Then he fell, hitting the ground awkwardly. There was no light now, just fire and smoke. There was no castle, no Dementors, no wizards… nothing. He tried to suck in a breath and coughed on smoke. Was he going to die from inhalation, after surviving that. But no, ahead the flames parted, and he saw her.
He was going to die after all.
She was completely unharmed. That explosion had levelled the entire castle and she didn't have a scratch on her. Her eyes zeroed in on him in a hateful glare. The fire picked up around him. Maybe he'd burn to death, before she managed to kill him. But it was odd because these flames didn't hurt.
The flames leapt up, congealing into a human form out of thin air. "Let's get out of here, kid." Harry Potter said.
They'd heard him, after all. Septimius clutched him like a lifeline. If it was true that he was family, he, Lily, and T'Chone were just about the last family he had left.
"No!" The Goddess hissed, and her voice seemed distorted, overlaid with a second voice that was impossible to place. Hela bolted towards them, indescribably fast. She wouldn't reach them before Septimius' vision was engulfed by fire.