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authormitchel-blog · 7 years

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Part 10

It was Quirrell.

“but….Snape.”

“Severus?” Quirrel laughed, and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and deep. “Yes, Severus does seem the type doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?”

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.

“But Snape tried to kill me!”

“No, No ,NO!! It was I who tried to kill you. If it wasn’t for that stunt you pulled you would have been splattered to the ground like Mr. Flint.”

“You did that to Marcus.”

Quirrell smirked.

“I had to get you in the air Harry. If anything Snape was trying to save you with his pathetic little counter curse.”

Snape had tried to save him.

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air, and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

“You let in the troll in?”

“Well, I do have a special gift with trolls. Severus halted me even then though that three-headed dog did manage to mangle him a bit.”

Halloween, it all made sense. Snape wasn’t going to steal the stone. He had suspected Quirrell all along.

“Now, if you’ll wait a minute Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

It was only then that Harry realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

“The mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell murmured. “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this.”

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

“I saw you and Snape in the forest.” “Yes,” Quirrell laughed. “He was trying to frighten me. Like he could with Lord Voldemort on my side.”

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

“I see the Stone…I’m presenting it to my master…but where is it?”

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn’t give.

“But Snape always seemed to hate me so much.”

“Oh, he does,” said Quirrell casually. “heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn’t you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead.”

“But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing, I thought Snape was threatening you.”

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell’s face.

“Sometimes, I find it hard to follow my master’s instructions….he is a great wizard and I am weak….”

“He was there with you?”

“He is with me wherever I go,” said Quirrell quietly. “I met him when I traveled the world. He showed me how wrong I have been thinking that there is good and evil, that there is this great chasm between them, but there isn’t. Good and evil don’t exist, there is only power. Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me. When I failed to steal the Stone from Grignotts, he was most displeased. He punished me…. Decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me.”

“I don’t understand…is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?”

Harry’s mind was racing.

What he wanted more than anything in the world was to find the Stone before Quirrell did. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it---which means I’ll see where it’s hidden. But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I’m up to?

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without him knowing, but the ropes were just too tight. He tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

“Help me, master,” Quirrell called desperately.

And to Harry’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

“Use the boy…use the boy….”

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

“Yes, Potter, come here.”

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got to his feet, and walked toward Quirrell, sensing his chance.

Quirrell moved behind him. Harry breathed in the funny noise coming from Quirrell’s turban. He closed his eyes and stepped in front of the mirror.

His reflection winked at him, and he felt something drop into his pocket.

“Well?” said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?”

Harry screwed up all his courage.

“I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore. I’ve won the house cup.”

Quirrell cursed again, moving Harry to the side so he could see in to the mirror again.

Harry hadn’t made it five paces before the other voice spoke again.

“He lies….he lies….”

“Potter, come back here!” Quirrell shouted. “Do not tell lies! What did you see?”

The voice spoke again.

“Let me speak to him….face-to-face….”

“Master, you are not strong enough.”

“I have strength enough….for this…”

Quirrell unwrapped his turban. Harry would have screamed, but he couldn’t make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

“Harry Potter….” It whispered.

Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn’t move.

“See what I have become?” the face said. “Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I can share another’s body….but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds.....”

Unicorn blood sustained him, Quirrell carried him, and once he had the Stone Harry knew he would be back.

“Now, why don’t you give me that Stone in your pocket?”

So he knew. Harry stumbled backward.

“Don’t be a fool,” snarled the face. “Better save your own life and join me… or you’ll meet the same end as your parents…They died begging for mercy….”

“LIAR!” Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him.

“I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn’t have died….she was trying to protect you…Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain…..”

“NEVER!”

Harry sprang toward the flame door, but when Quirrell followed him with cries from Voldemort to “SIEZE HIM” Harry turned back. Quirrell pinned him to the ground with his knees. Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face----

“AAAARGH”

Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain….his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a fatal curse.

He burned him as Quirrell tried to wrench his arm from his grasp as Voldemort shrieked “KILL HIM! KILL HIM” and somewhere other voices, “Harry! Harry!”, but all Harry saw was darkness.

&&&

“How long have I been here?” asked Harry.

“Three days,” answered Dumbledore. Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

“From your friends and admirers,” said Dumbledore. “What happened between you and Quirrell is a complete secret so of course the whole school knows. I believe Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic and confiscated it.”

“Where are….”

“Both Miss Bulstrode and Miss Granger will be relieved that you have come round, so shall Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, even Mr. Zabini showed a bit of interest in your well-being. Mr. Goyle even stopped by.”

Really, thought Harry. He’d have to talk to Goyle later.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said, like he had read his mind. “I believe he brought that particular basket.” Dumbledore pointed to a silver and green basket that help loads and loads of Sugar Quills, which he knew were Goyle’s favorites.

“The Stone?” said Harry.

And Dumbledore told him. That Harry had managed to hold onto the Stone long enough. That Dumbledore had found him just in time. And he told him what would now happen to Nicolas Flamel.

“But that means he and his wife will die, won’t they?”

“They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry’s expression.

“Don’t fear death Harry. For to those who have a well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. As much money and life as you could want! As much power, but the trouble with being able to choose whatever you want it is that sometimes you choose wrong, and humans do have a knack for choosing precisely those thing that are wrong for them.”

“And He….and Voldemort.”

Dumbledore gave him a kind smile.

“He will be back. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share…not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; which shows just how little mercy he has for his followers or his enemies.”

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly because it made his head hurt. Then he said, “Sir, there are some other things I’d like to know, if you can tell me…things I want to know the truth about…..”

“The truth,” Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not too in which case I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to keep him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place.”

“Do you know why Quirrell couldn’t touch you? Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet.

“And the Cloak? You sent it to me?”

“Ah, your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it.” Dumbledore’s eye twinkled. “Useful thing…your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here.”

“And Snape? Quirrell said Snape…”

“Professor Snape, Harry.”

“Yes, him---Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?”

“Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive. He saved his life.”

“What?”

“Yes…” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt…I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace….”

“You found the Stone because you didn’t want it, only someone who didn’t crave such things, money, power, to live forever could have fetched the Stone….Quirrell should’ve known he couldn’t beat a child in that arena. Children don’t want things like that, they want things like these….”

He picked up a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, and popped one in his mouth. He smiled, then choked and said, “Alas! Ear wax!”

&&&

Millicent, Hermione, Ron, the twins, Neville, Blaise, and begrudging looking Goyle trotted into the room even as Madam Pomfrey touted, “Only five minutes.”

Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad that she didn’t for he was still very sore.

“Harry, we were sure you were going to….Dumbledore was so worried….”

“The whole school’s talking about it,” said Ron. “What really happened?”

Harry told them.

“So, the Stone’s gone?” said Millicent finally.

“We could have made a fortune, Potter,” said Blaise. “Where’s your enterprising spirit?”

“It was gone when I woke up, Blaise, Dumbledore returned it to the person it belongs too.”

“Flamel,” Hermione filled in.

“What happened to you two?” Harry asked Millicent and Hermione.

“Well, Mil….” Hermione started to say when Millicent cut her off.

“We got out okay,” said Millicent.

Hermione gave her a look but continued.

“We were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall. He looked at us, and just knew. He said, “Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?” and hurtled off to the third floor.”

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Blaise and Harry knew he meant the cloak.

“Of course, he did,” said Millicent. “Draco’s right, the old man’s off his rocker. Has been, if you want to believe my parents.”

“No,” said Harry, eager to defend the old headmaster for some reason. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea what the plan was, and instead of stopping us, he just gave us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how that mirror worked. He thought I had the right to face him if I could.”

Ignoring the looks his friends were giving each other, Harry asked about the House Cup.

“Slytherin won,” said a gloating Blaise.

Ron rolled his eyes. “How is it our fault that Ravenclaw has a mutant team and practically steam rolled us that last match? That should be investigated.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

“You’ve had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT,” she said firmly.

The day of the feast, Hagrid came to visit him. He looked scared to even touch Harry. Apparently, their little adventure had shaken Hagrid.

“I brought yeh a present,” he said.

“It’s not a stout sandwich, is it?” said Harry anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

“Nah, Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. ‘Course he shoulda sacked me instead….anyway, got yeh this….”

It seemed to be a handsome, leather covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father.

“Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ her photos…knew yeh didn’ have any…d’yeh like it?”

Harry couldn’t speak, but Hagrid understood.

Harry made his way down to the end of year feast alone that night. Slytherin were going to win for what would be the seventh year in a row. Huge banners were hung in silver and green from the ceiling of the Great Hall to celebrate their win. Not that Harry did much.

A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. Harry stopped, he wasn’t sure if he could do this. It seemed as if everyone else was already in the Great Hall, and he would be one of the last to enter. Maybe he should just turn around and go back to the hospital wing, surely someone would bring him some food. Even they didn’t, it wouldn’t be the first time he went to bed without dinner.

Just as he turned around, he barely missed running into someone.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Potter? I do believe the feast is that way.”

It was Snape.

“I was just….I thought I could go for a walk…”

“To the Great Hall to all of your admirers, no doubt?”

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. He could go face to face with Voldemort, but he couldn’t face his surly Head of House.

“What you did was irresponsible. You could have killed Ms. Bulstrode with your hero antics. As it stands, Gryffindor has 312 points, Hufflepuff 352, Ravenclaw 426 and my house has 472, but for your behavior and complete lack of respect for how things are done here, and loathe as I am to admit that I cannot ban you from coming back next year, I will be taking fifty points from Slytherin house.”

And just like that the banners in the Great Hall changed from Green to Blue. “After you, Mr. Potter,” said Snape and defiantly Harry walked in the hall.

Every eye turned to him even as Dumbledore began his speech.

Harry was deaf to it though as he thought about how much Snape hated him. It wasn’t enough what Harry had gone through to save the Stone, but to make sure that everyone else hadn’t hoisted Harry onto a platform Snape was willing to lose the House Cup when they already had it in the bag. He had to make sure that Harry knew what his place was, and now, everyone else would blame him for the loss.

He sat down with Millicent and Blaise, keeping his eyes on the table even as he could feel the questioning gazes of the others around him.

“It seems we have had a change in decoration,” said Dumbledore. “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

Great. Harry could survive having Snape dock points, but not Dumbledore and certainly not in front of the whole school.

“First, to Ms. Hermione Granger for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House fifty points.”

That took Gryffindor out of last place, and it seemed that Hermione’s house mates were exceedingly grateful.

“Then, to Ms. Millicent Bulstrode for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Slytherin House fifty points.”

Then that covered what Harry had just lost. He looked at Snape, but he didn’t look angry, he looked like he expected this.

Then why?

“Thirdly, to Mr. Harry Potter…,” said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet… “For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Slytherin sixty points.”

It was a landslide. And the room erupted. Dumbledore raised his hand and the room gradually fell silent.

“There are all kinds of courage,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Gregory Goyle.”

The Slytherins all around them erupted in a way that Harry had never seen before. Each and every Slytherin even Malfoy seemed to be beside themselves with the news. Harry was even sure he spotted Tracey Davis giving Goyle a kiss on the cheek.

“Which means,” said Dumbledore. “That we need to change this back.” He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became silver and green once again and the serpent was back in its place behind the Head Table.

Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall’s hand with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, but McGonagall was keeping an eye on Hermione Granger who looked pleased as her housemates congratulated her on getting them out of last place. It seemed as if she was going to have more friends after all. Millicent smiled at him and Blaise clapped him on the back. Goyle sent him a thumbs up and even Draco sent him a smile, though he quickly covered it up.

It was the best evening of Harry’s life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls…he would never, ever forget tonight.

Exam results were in. Millicent was at the top of their class, Hermione had beat them all. Even Goyle managed to pick up his grades, with Millicent promising that she would help tutor him some this summer.

Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats. Harry would miss the silver and green scarf he had so often worn this year. He would have no need of it this summer. Finally, they pulled into the platform nine and three-quarters at King’s Cross station.

“Home,” said Ron, but Harry couldn’t share the same sentiment.

“You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron. Fred and George echoed their assent.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.”

People joined them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

“Bye, Harry!”

“See you, Potter!”

“Have a nice summer, Harry.”

“Still famous,” said Millicent, grinning at him.

“Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry.

He, Ron, and Millicent passed through the gateway together.

“There he is,” Mrs. Weasley said to her daughter. “Hello kids, busy year?”

“Very,” said Harry. “Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Oh, it was nothing, dear.”

“Ready, are you?”

It was Uncle Vernon, still purple faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry even existing, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.

“You must be Harry’s family!” said Mrs. Weasley.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Uncle Vernon. “Hurry up, boy, we haven’t got all day.” He walked away.

Harry hung back for a last word with his friends.

“See you over the summer, then.”

“Hope you have…er….a. good holiday,” said Hermione, who had caught up with them, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant. Millicent had her hand in her wand pocket.

Harry stilled her with a look. After barely escaping Quirrell and expulsion more times than he could count, it wouldn’t do for Millicent to get caught hexing someone now, even if Uncle Vernon deserved it.

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that spread over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer….”

Millicent smiled, proud of the Slytherin Harry had become.

#slytherin harry #slytherin!harry #Harry Potter #Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone #Harry Potter rewrite #Harry Potter and the sorcerer's stone rewrtie #Part 10 #sspart10

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kj-1130 · 3 years

Text

Nothing For Me

Part 9

Main Masterlist

Part 8|Part 10|Part 10 (rewrtie)|

You sat on your bed, watching some new netflix series that you weren’t really interested in. You searched recommended shows on google (since you didn’t really have any friends to ask) and this one just happened to be the first of many that popped up.

It was small things like these that made you reflect on your life. You accomplished things most people wouldn’t even think of before you were fully a teenager. You lost your mom, thinking that you’d have a father to hopefully fall back on. How naïve of you to think that.

As your eyes scanned your room it landed on a piece of paper that was sticking out of your nightstand drawer. You picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey sweetheart.

Letting out a sharp exhale, you gently tossed the paper back to where it previously was.

“I hate to interrupt, but there are guests that have arrived in the compound.”

You paused the show and pulled your earphones out.

“Who is it, Mia?”

There was a short pause.

“Mia?”

Security footage of the elevators popped up and your face dropped.

Yanking the covers off of your body, you jumped off the bed and dashed towards the stairs. You ran down them, skipping steps every now and again, desperate to get there as quickly as possible.

Once you arrived at the desired floor, you pushed the door open and ran to the conference room.

“I know someone,” you heard Steve say.

You stared at their backs, chest heaving up and down.

“What the fuck?”

Everyone turned towards you with varying expressions. Nat walked up to you and gripped your shoulders.

“Look, we don’t have much time to talk. Just know that I love you so much,” she whispered.

“What is…” you trailed off.

Moving her hands to your head, she cupped your cheeks and brought it down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. Her hands slowly dropped back to her sides with a deep exhale as she glanced back at the others and gave them a subtle nod. Natasha then walked out of the room.

“Nat,” you called after her weakly, twisting your body to watch her go.

Steve was next, giving your shoulder a squeeze before following after the former redhead. Sam walked up, giving you an awkward side hug, still supporting Vision who gave you a weird wave, before jogging off. Finally, Wanda walked up and pulled you into her arms.

You dropped your head onto her shoulder as tears filled your eyes and you took shuddering breaths.

“What’s going on?”

When you received no answer, you pulled back slightly. The witch was biting her lip with a look in her eyes that you couldn’t please.

Giving your arms one more squeeze, she began to walk away as well.

“Wanda,” you cried softly. “Please.”

The woman pursed her lips, then turned around to catch up with the others.

Silence washed over you, drowning everything in its past.

You turned towards Rhodey with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re leaving too, aren’t you.”

He simply walks away with a sigh.

Your floor was usually quiet. But this quiet felt different. Maybe it was because you knew you were the only one there.

You were so confused. Why did they come back only to leave straight away. You didn’t even get to say anything except for the small amount of pleading you did for them to stay. Why did they have to leave?

Dragging your feet, you slowly made your way back to the room. In the elevator, there was a lingering smell of them. As weird as it sounds, it brought you a little bit of comfort.

You plopped down on your bed and curled up into a ball. You grabbed your phone and decided to facetime MJ.

She answered around the fifth ring with a small smile on her face.

“Hey…” she trailed off. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffed before wiping your nose.

“They left,” you muttered. “They all left.”

On the other side of the phone, MJ was sitting up and furrowing her eyebrows in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“They came back and then they left.”

She had an idea of what you were talking about.

“You wanna talk ‘bout it?”

You shook your head and snuggled under the covers.

“Just.. stay on the phone. Please?”

Michelle nodded and laid down as well.

“Whatever you need.”

It had been a few hours since you first called MJ. The two of you would mutter small things to each other, each more random than the last.

“I’m scared,” you finally spoke up.

“Why?”

Shrugging, you thought about your interactions with the ‘fugitives’ before their departure.

“They were acting like that was the last time I would ever see them. They wouldn’t even tell me anything.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Well-”

The call froze up which wasn’t unusual but when it resumed, you saw Michelle’s arms turning into dust.

“Michelle?”

You watched her disintegrate with tears in your eyes.

“Michelle!”

Before you could do anything, you felt this weird, painful tingling sensation in your feet.

You yanked off the cover and saw that your legs were being whisked away. You allowed your body to go limp as the feeling radiated through your body. It was a strange feeling of relief when you saw your hands turn to ash. At least you wouldn’t be without MJ.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you came to. The light had this orange-ish tint that made you both warm and weary.

Slowly pushing yourself up with a groan, your head swiveled in all directions trying to figure out where you were.

Then, the memories hit you like a truck.

“Michelle!”

You scrambled up, barely gaining your footing.

“Michelle! MJ!”

Your breathing picked up as you began jogging in some direction, one you couldn’t tell; everything looked the same.

“Michelle! Anybody!”

You kept running. And running and running and running. There was no indication of where you were going. You could’ve been running in place and there was no way you would know.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Your lungs felt like they were getting weaker by the second.

Why couldn’t you breathe? Where was everyone? Why are you alone?

With all of these questions floating around your head, you kept running.

You heard a tweet.

Slowing down, you looked above you and watched as a bird flew by.

“..lo? Hello? Anybody?”

The voice came from behind you. A body was seen coming towards you. It was kept hidden by the fog. As they got closer you realized that they were speeding up.

“(Y/n)?”

Tears came to your eyes as you started back walking in the direction you were headed.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n) wait!”

Peter’s hand touched your shoulder and you slapped it away.

“Get away from me.”

You continued running. But he followed.

“Michelle,” you yelled out.

You heard more voices and moved faster.

“Michelle!”

All of a sudden, the wind was knocked out of you. You knew who it was. Her scent invaded your senses and you wrapped your arms around her tightly.

“Michelle,” you weakly cried.

You felt her arms grip tighter as if she was scared to let you go. You didn’t blame her. You didn’t want to let her go either.

Pressing a kiss to her neck where your head was tucked, you felt her tears drip on you. You didn’t mind, though. You preferred this over those unbearable minutes without her.

You heard your name being called in the distance.

Reluctantly, you removed your arms from around MJ’s waist.

“(Y/n)!”

“Wanda,” you whispered.

You started to walk away until you heard your girlfriend whimper.

“S-stay… stay right there. I’m gonna be right back, I promise.”

You jogged towards where the voice came from.

“Wanda?”

You saw her silhouette and ran towards her. You collapsed into her chest as she ran her hands up and down your back.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

You moved back slightly so you could look at her face. There were unshed tears in her.

“We lost,” she whispered.

All of a sudden, people started appearing. Animals were running about too. There were more voices. It sounded like a football stadium. You heard English, French, Spanish, Swahili...any language you could ever think of.

Michelle ran up to your side and gripped your arm.

“Oh my god,” you muttered.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

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Marvel Taglist

@hateinthemorning, @mylove4life, @badbitchyoonjii, @blueposthings, @idek-5

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x black!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #michelle jones x fem!reader #michelle jones x reader #nothing for me miniseries

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