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THE SCREAMING HAD stopped. Well, most of it. The sound of her whaling baby mixing with the storm outside was the only thing audible in that moment. But, why? She was almost certain that in the next minutes she'd be dead, so why had the woman outside stopped her shouting?
"You think I don't know what you have done?" The woman had screamed just a few minutes ago at her.
"You have disrespected our sisterhood, your ancestors, and most of all, me, you ignorant girl!"
Now it's the time to point out that she wasn't, in fact, ignorant. She was fully aware of her doings, or so she had thought.
Right now, as she was staring at her house's door, which was glowing a faint red colour, it dawned to her that what she had done was actually a really bad thing, well, it depends from the point of view you're looking at the situaton from. How she had managed to hide it for a full year, she still didn't know, but she was certainly grateful for that little time this had all lasted. She glanced down at her child, who only seemed to be getting more and more aggitated, her crying get louder and louder, as the storm outside also grew.
"Shush, my little thunder, mommy's right here, everything will be alright."
She didn't have the heart to believe her words as she said them to the little girl in her arms, but she had to, for her sake. She didn't have much time, she knew that already, but it definitely got confirmed as the red glow of the door mixed with purple.
She had to act fast.
Facing her matron was unavoidable, but that didn't mean that she couldn't send her child to safety, this was a 'life or death' situation, and she wished for there to be at most one death, and it'd better be hers and not her one-year-old's. So, she did the thing that practically got her into this whole situation the first time, she raised her hand, balled it into a fist and punched, hard, in the air. Not even a second later, the room had split in half, a faint gold glow appearing on her face.
Half of it was still the same, her twin sized bed stayed in place, her books scattered all over it, open to various pages. The other half of her room, well, it wasn't her room anymore. It was a gigantic office, full of shelves that showcased the many strange artefacts the owner of this office possesed. On it's very high walls, a couple dozen portairts hung, different men appeared on them, all very much alive. Moving as if they were not creations of human hands, as if something more than just a plain individual had made them. Usually, they were very chatty, however, they had all turned their eyes at the woman who suddenly appeared in front of them having her one-year-old at her embrace.
"It is time, then, my dear?"
A shiver run through her spine, she had definitely not seen the man standing at the far corner of the room, tangled in the shadows. Of course, she immediately recognised him, the frown on his face, as he approached her, was all too familiar.
As she was about to respond, something hit her room's door so hard, she could see the red not co-living with the purple anymore, but being overpowered by it.
"She will not stop until she kills both me and my daughter. Hell, she would kill my child's father too, if she could. I think we both know that." She could feel her child shaking in her arms as she said those words, only to realise it was her hands that were causing it. She had never trembled like this before in her life. "Take her."
"She will not hesitate, i believe you know that. She will not care if you don't have possesion of the child anymore, as soon as she bursts through that door, you will be dead."
Of course she knew that, she was so sure of it. This was her only chance to save her baby's life, she did not care if hers ended while doing so.
She planted a kiss on her child's forehead, but not without whispering, "You will be as great as your father, my love, one day you will meet him, and when that happens, please tell him hi from me."
And with that, she handed the child to the man in front of her and turned to face her last battle, she had to be brave, her child deserved a mother who would not go down without a fight. Oh, how she wished it was all different, like the fairytales she would read when she was little, but life was not a fairytale. Real life was full of hatred, manipulation, death. Real life was painful.
Before she closed the connection she had opened, as the blasts of purple were overtaking her room, making it shake from the power they produced, she looked at this old man, holding her crying baby in his arms. His face was often unreadable, but this time, the sadness across it was so noticable.
She left them behind, the portal closing almost simultaniously as her killer blasted the door open, ready for her strike, but not without phrasing her dying wish to the man.
"Take her to Greece for me, Albus."
And with that, Wanda Maximoff was gone. Her child so well-hidden, so far away from her own world, her father's world, she could almost rest as she was being murdered by the magic of her teacher, almost.
