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The Only Person

Summary:

But Wanda couldn’t seem to let go of his hand, held it tightly through the crowd, only letting her grip go lax when they reached the edge, his fingertips brushing hers until he was too far away for their arm spans to reach.

 

Pietro and Wanda get sorted at Howarts.

Notes:

Part of a larger universe I'm building, but have no ideas for, if you have a prompt, check out this and send me one here.

Also, this fic is gen. I mean, they're 11. But if you ship them, you could see it as Wanda/Pietro. If not, it's cute siblings being codependent. Also, warning for Jewish people being forced into Christianity. (spoiler that's not important: they're in a Catholic orphanage.)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

They had only ever had one another.

As long as Wanda could remember, Pietro had been her entire life. She wasn’t positive – there was no way for her to be – but she was sure he was the first thing she had seen in this world. Their childhood was never easy, but it was spent together and very alone.

The other children at their school – schools, they had to move once – thought they were freaks, but Pietro would merely hold her hand and tell her, “No, sister. We’re special. I know it. I know we can’t be the only ones.” Wanda would nod, smile through her tears, and let him drag her off to whatever thing he wanted to do next.

Wanda would do anything for her brother.

-

Wanda is not going to do this. She won’t. It was hard enough to leave their home after their. After that happened. And the orphanage was not that bad. No matter what Pietro said.

“They’re Catholic, sister. Catholic. They have not been good to our people,” Pietro said as he packed his and her few belongings in the two trunks the man with the eye patch – Headmaster Fury – had brought with him.

“And you think these new people will be good to us, dear brother?” She flicked her wrist and the trunk lids slammed shut. The Headmaster had been obviously impressed by her abilities, had even told her that she was exceedingly powerful and needed to go to this school, this Hogwarts, before her powers became too strong for her to control.

Wanda didn’t put a lot of stock in what strange adults said, but Pietro had nodded and frowned, like he had thought that all along.

“Better than these nuns, forcing us to attend Mass, sister.” He grabbed a few more pieces of her clothes and walked back to the trunk, opening it after an eye roll thrown over his shoulder. “We will learn there, Wanda. Learn how to control our magic. I told you we weren’t the only ones.”

He stood straight, his brown hair flicking over his ears and grey eyes shinning with excitement. Wanda sighed and took the step into his arms, chin hooked over his shoulder. “Fine, Pietro. I will go to this school and learn how to wield magic. But I make no promises to like it.”

-

Nick Fury had appeared at the orphanage on August 31st, almost two full years after their parents had passed away. Wanda’s first impression of him was that he was impatient, but kind, if a bit sharp.

Mother Superior had frowned deeply at everything about him, from his eye patch to his long black robes. “May I help you, mister-?”

“Headmaster Nicholas Fury. I’m interested in speaking to two of your charges, Mister Pietro and Miss Wanda Maximoff?” As he said this, his one good eye stared straight at Wanda and then flicking up to Pietro, from where they stood, peaking around the corner, down the hall.

Mother Superior’s frown deepened. It was no hidden fact that she didn’t like either of the Maximoff twins, though it was hard to tell who she hated more. Pietro who refused to go to Mass like a good boy, because “No, mother superior. I am Jewish. Do you hear me? JEW-ISH,” or Wanda, who…wasn’t right. The devil was in that girl. Or so Wanda had heard her say to the Sister who taught history.

Regardless, she shook her head. “Why would you wish to speak to them? Are you extending a scholarship? There are better students. Better Catholics. They’re not even Catholic.”

Fury frowned in response. “It’s not a scholarship. Their tuition was paid for before their parents passed away, and when I found out about their deaths, I knew I needed to make sure they were aware of their opportunity.”

“A boarding school?” Wanda tried to grab Pietro, but he was too fast. Always just a little too fast to be ‘normal.’ The boy was too impatient.

“Yes, Mister Maximoff. A boarding school. And if the Sister would allow us, I need to speak to the children in private.”

Mother Superior glared at him for a moment, before nodding slowly, motioning towards her office. Wanda was well acquainted with her office.

Once they had all sat down in the uncomfortable hard wood chairs, Fury leaned back in his chair and stared at the two eleven year olds. “Now, before I start asking my questions, you should know that I am a headmaster, at one of the most prestigious schools in Great Britain-”

“Eton?!” Pietro exclaimed, nearly vibrating in his chair. Wanda knew he hated it here, but she didn’t think it was so bad.

Fury chuckled and shook his head. “No, Mister Maximoff. I think it’s time for my questions.” His face became very serious. “Have you ever done anything? Anything you couldn’t explain?”

Wanda whipped her head to the side, meeting Pietro’s eyes. No one was supposed to know. They didn’t show anyone. It wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t control it all the time. Pietro gets too excited and Wanda. Wanda has a temper.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

-

He had gone on to explain about his school. A school for Witches and Wizards. Wanda was a witch. Pietro was a Wizard. They weren’t the only ones who were special. He’d made a big deal about bringing them into London, and Mother Superior had nodded begrudgingly, before following them out of the orphanage, one hand grasping at her rosary.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of secret doors to streets that couldn’t actually exist and stores with cats and owls and robes and wands, real wands.

Wanda’s wand was a maple wood wand with a unicorn hair core, fourteen inches and rigid, where Pietro’s was poplar wood with a phoenix core, a half an inch longer than Wanda’s and swishy.

Wanda and Pietro had decided they had no need for an owl, not having anyone besides each other to communicate with, as it was. But Wanda had fallen in love with a sleek black cat, thin and timid, and she easily named him Max.

“Max Maximoff?” Pietro had teased, but Wanda just smiled and wiggled her fingers through the cage door at the cat, who rubbed his chin against them.

They bought books and robes and potion supplies and dragon hide gloves.

When they got back to the orphanage, Wanda almost felt like it never happened. Like it was a fever dream. Except Pietro had that look in his eyes. That twitch in his fingers. He was almost vibrating he was so excited.

And Fury would be sending a car for them. Tomorrow – today. And the car would be taking them off to Hogwarts. Or, more, dropping them off at the train station with the explicit instructions to go to Platform 9 ¾.

“How is there only ¾ of a platform?” Pietro asked her, back in their room. After Fury had left, they had run up to their room and huddled together under Wanda’s sheets, like they did when they were very small. “It must be magic, right?”

Wanda nodded. She found that she had lost her voice.

-

The train station was busy. Full to the brim with men and women dressed for work and families getting on trains to visit far off relatives. Wanda had spotted a teenage boy and his parents, all wearing robes like Fury’s and had pulled Pietro along, their cart carrying both of their small trunks, piled with their clothes and text books and the various other things they’d bought for Hogwarts. Balancing on top of the trunks was Max’s cage, the cat himself sleeping on the blanket Wanda had placed in there for him.

They’re about to reach platform nine when Wanda watches the boy disappear. Into the wall between platforms nine and ten. Well.

“I guess that answers your question, brother.” Wanda smirks at the small O of Pietro’s mouth, before diving into the wall herself.

-

The scarlet steam engine was beautiful, but nothing was better than the plush seats once they got on the train.

Wanda and Pietro had a compartment to themselves. Which was good, because it allowed Wanda got get comfortable with this whole thing. She still doubted whether all this was a good idea, leaving the orphanage, no matter how awful the nuns had been to them, they knew there. They knew what it was like and who to avoid and how to get around.

They don’t know Hogwarts.

Pietro gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry, sister. We’re together, and that’s all that matters.”

-

They were lead from the train, some hours later, to some boats, each sitting three. A small red faced boy was sitting with them, and smiled weakly when they joined him. The woman who led them introduced herself was tall and beautiful, though aged. She lad long, greying blond hair that fell in tendril curls around her face and down her back. She’d called herself simply ‘Frigga’ and told them that she would be taking the trip with them. That she taught something called ‘Care of Magical Creatures.’

The trip didn’t take long, but a boy with a shaved head almost fell out of his boat at the landing on the other side of the lake. Frigga handed them off to a younger woman, with a sharp face that reminded Wanda of Fury, but she had no eyepatch and very short hair.

“My name is Professor Hill, I’m the deputy Head Mistress here at Hogwarts.” Her gaze seemed to pierce everyone but focus on no one in particular. “We will be entering the school through these doors behind me, and then join with the other students in the Great Hall. There you will gather at the front of the Hall and be sorted into your Houses.”

The woman nodded to them, and as they entered the school, the whispers of the other students crescendoed into a fervor.

“I heard that you have to battle a troll-”

“-while I wouldn’t mind Ravenclaw, I really want to be in-”

“No one good has ever landed themselves in Slytherin.”

Pietro grabbed Wanda’s hand and she shook the voices away. He repeated his sentiment from the train, “It will be okay, sister. We have each other.”

-

The Great Hall was large and all the other students were looking at them as they entered. A few pointed, some jeered and sneered, but a short boy with wild black hair and a blue tie stood up and yelled, “VISION! That’s my boy!” at the red faced boy from the boats.

It didn’t help the boy’s red face, but his smile became a little more sincere and he waved to the older boy.

Soon enough the first years were gathered to the front of the room, where there was a hat on a stool.

Professor Hill began to speak again. “When I call your name, you will come sit on the stool, I will place the hat on your head, and you will join your housemates once the hat decides.”

Wanda gripped Pietro’s hand tighter, turned to face him, and realized he’d been trying to meet her gaze. She gave a shaky smile.

-

The names passed, Wanda not caring when her year-mates were sorted, only noting that each house responded uproariously whenever they gained a student. And that some of the older students with green or red ties sneered whenever someone was placed with the opposite house, but they were not the majority and were sometimes shoved for their bad behavior.

(She did note that Edwin Jarvis II – the red faced boy called ‘Vision’ – was sorted into Hufflepuff, the house with the yellow ties.)

Pietro was called, in Hill’s clear but firm voice, “Pietro Maximoff?”

But Wanda couldn’t seem to let go of his hand, held it tightly through the crowd, only letting her grip go lax when they reached the edge, his fingertips brushing hers until he was too far away for their arm spans to reach.

He reached the stool and sat, Hill placed the hat on his head, and his gaze never broke from Wanda’s the entire time. After one, two, three deep breaths, the hat yelled, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

Pietro broke out into a grin, nodded supportively to Wanda, and his new Housemates let out a loud round of applause, wooting and cheers.

Once they settled down, “Wanda Maximoff?” was declared and that was when Wanda realized she hadn’t looked away from her brother.

She quickly rushed up to the stool, eager to join her brother, sat and waited for Hill to place the hat on her head.

“Ah, I got glimpses of you from your brother, Miss Maximoff.” The voice was in her head, but not, like a whisper in her ear. “You are a very impressive eleven year old.”

My brother thinks I’m perfect.

“You’re not wrong, Miss.” The hat chuckled without noise. “You are also very perspective. It’s very rare that I get a head that knows I’m not really speaking.”

I understand how magic feels, Mister. I’ve been using it since before I can remember.

“Yes, I know that, too.” Another chuckle. “And yet…you are not…no, that’s not quite right either.”

Are you debating which House to put me in, sir? Because I will make it simple for you, I want to be with my brother.

“Oh? But you are not a Hufflepuff, Miss Maximoff. No, you would not get along in the Badger Den.”

I don’t care, I would have my brother. He is the only person I need.

“But you don’t have the ambition, the drive, of a Slytherin. No. Not Slytherin, you are not a snake.”

You’re being ridiculous. I’m asking you, hat, put me with my brother.

“And Ravenclaw’s not right. No. You have plenty of natural intelligence, common sense, but there is no ache for knowledge.”

PUT ME WITH MY BROTHER, HAT.

“This is difficult. Very difficult.”

“I SAID, DO AS I SAY!” Wanda shouted at last, sparks flying from her hands, making Hill take a few steps back. Wanda looked around the room, realizing that it was completely quiet, you could hear a pin drop in another room. A few students were openly gawking and Hill looked flustered.

She made eye contact with Pietro, his face a picture of concern, unwavering concern.

“Yes, I do believe you are a GRYFFINDOR!”

Wanda froze, but that couldn’t be right.

Because how could her heart break if she was frozen?

Notes:

Check out my tumblr if you want more Maximoff trash on your dash. And remember, if you have a prompt, check out this and send me one here.

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