DEMONS ➤ HARRY POTTER AU

eighteen ; albus fucking dumbledore

Wanda was fuming after her first, and most definitely last, flying lesson. Her eyes was seeing red as she stormed across the Quidditch pitch, ignoring the cries of "Wanda! Wait", as she balled her fists. She hated him.

Rushing up the stairs, she felt Tabby's hand on her shoulder and her breathing was irregular. She must've run to catch up to her, Wanda thought, as she continued on her pursuit to find him, the bloody bastard. 

"Hold up Wanda," Tabby heaved, as she tried to catch her breath, "Not everyone can command a broom on their first go-"

Wanda was not listening. The once closed entrance doors were slammed open, thanks to the little red gift from the laboratory, alerting the students walking into the great hall. She wanted to find him, and then end him... if it is by magic, a dagger or her mouth filled with poison he fed her.

"Hold up Wanda," Tabby yelled after her again, "Where are you going?" 

She did not head towards the stairs that descent down to the Slytherin corridors. She was not head towards the library or the great hall. No. She was heading towards the staircase, and she would search every bloody room to find him.

"Where is he?" Wanda whispered harshly to Tabby, who had managed to chase after her, walking toe-to-tow with Wanda.

"Who?"

"Albus fucking Dumbledore."

Tabby's eyes widen as her use of profanities. So did the students heading towards the Great Hall... this included none other then Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Maximoff!" She exclaimed, "By merlins beard, do not speak of your professor in such a way."

Turning to face her transfiguration professor, she saw the majority of her group at the entrance of the castle, staring at her wide faced. She was still furious, her hands where still in a ball and she was on a verge of blowing her cover... she wanted him dead.

"Where is his office," She asked Professor McGonagall, her eyes slitting.

"This way my dear."

Following the transfiguration professor, she left Tabby alone with the rest of her group. It was true, she could only see red and she could see Harry Potter's red quidditch jumper, and his gawking face. How could you idolise a man that took pleasure in corrupting children? Making her way up to the second floor, and down Gargoyle Corridor- at least that was what Professor McGonagall told her on their walk. 

Arriving at the gold gargoyle, she whispered the password... which Wanda had no plan to remember, and stormed into the office the second the opening appeared. Professor McGonagall did not enter the room, instead she coughed to alert the Headmaster who was reading a black and gold spine book.

His eyes glanced away from his book, with his moon spectacles too far down on his nose, daring it to fall off, "Ah, I was waiting for you to arrive Miss Maximoff," He welcomed her in with his arms, offering the chair in front of him, "That will be all Minerva, thank you."

Professor McGonagall nodded her head and left, the door closing once her footsteps could not be heard while Wanda moved across the floor to the seat he directed for her to sit in. She did not speak, instead, she studied him.

For a powerful man, he had too many wrinkles on his forehead.

"How can I help you Miss Maximoff?"

She exploded.

"How dare you. How fucking dare you put me in a first year class. The audacity to make me paticipate in a class I can not simply do, how fucking dare you," Her heart was racing, "Do you plan to embarrass me? To bully me into submission? To have my pride stripped so you can build it in your name? How dare you place me in subjects I could never pass, how fucking dare you."

Her eyes were on the verge of turning red, then truely, she would be seeing red.

"I thought you wanted to experience all aspects of Hog-"

Wanda slammed to her feet, the chair falling to the ground behind her. Her once balled fists had slammed itself into the table, her red magic trickling out of her finger nails. She was beyond mad.

"I AM NOT OF MAGIC KIND," her voice shouted, the man seemed to always push everyone too far, "A BROOM IS NOT A WAND, A BROOM IS SELECTIVE TO ITS MAGIC!"

Her breathing became irregular, "A broomstick is not for muggle magic, but wizard magic... and you- and you" She begun to stutter, "You knew that, you fucking decided to have me fail in the beginning!"

Her voice echoed over the room. Yet, the man before her just simply smiled at her.

"Even with me opening up, with me trusting you with information your world truely does not deserve, you hired him-" A sob choked at the back of her throat, "You hired the man that's working with Voldemort, and you gave him access to Potter-" She stopped talking.

Suddenly her back became rigid, her posture straight and her mouth widen. Her fingers no longer touching the top of the desk as she let out a small gasp.

"You're playing with him..." She whispered.

Albus pushed his half-moon spectacles back up his nose, "Not playing. Preparing him."

"You're a manipulative-"

At a flick of his hand, every noise that came out of Wanda's voice was muted. What has he done.

"Your job is not to question my choices, as they, will be deemed good as they are... after all for the greater good. Your job is to protect Harry from all monsters, I am not one of them," he sighed, while Wanda stared at him wide eyed. "Let him get close to Loki, let him get close to Voldemort... and then at the moment he is on the verge of losing... save him. Let him learn how to swim on his own."

Her voice came back, a loud sigh emitting from her throat.

"You don't teach babies how to swim by throwing them with the sharks."

Albus stood up, and walked around to her. His hand pressing in her back as he directed her out of the office.

"Miss Maximoff, let me remind you that this is a wizarding war... sometimes there is necessary evils to better the greater good."

Her mouth was unable to speak. The man was despicable. 

"Goodbye Miss Maximoff," She was now on the opposite side of the door, "I hope the next time we visit, you bring some lollies to share."

The door closed and she was alone in the corridor.

The lines in this war seemed to blur even more.

She hated him, she did not want to help him.

But she wanted to protect a boy that was all too similar to herself, orphaned, and expected to fight when all they wanted was a home, to be loved, and to be happy. Not to be a weapon for the so-called greater good.

And Wanda only had one thought:

"Well fuck me, it looks like I have to become one of the sharks."