A Broken Melody

Pain. Pain. So much pain. The crack of an ankle. Screaming. The buzz of an electric bracelet. Muffled shrieking. Have to stay strong. They'll find me. Just have to stay strong. The cut of a scalpel. Screaming. Crying. Begging. A sadistic smile looming over her head. Too much pain. Eu vreau sa merg acasa. Can't take it anymore. Opreste-I. Please God, save me! Opreste-I! Make it stop! Opreste-I! Please just make it stop!

With a gasp, Hermione jolted up in her bed, a cold sweat covering her shaking body as her wide panicked eyes flickered around the room wildly, she sighed tiredly when she saw all the furniture floating in the air and looked down at her glowing hands, scorch marks on her sheets from where she had fisted them during her nightmare. Glancing over at the levitated mirror, she saw a pair of scarlet eyes staring back at her, letting out a slow breath, she laid back against her pillow, eyes fluttering closed as she focused on calming her racing mind, she gave a faint smile when she heard the soft thuds that told her the furniture was once again back on the ground. Throwing the covers off of her, Hermione stood up and walked over to her dresser, pulling out a black bra and grey boy-shorts, she placed them on a chair with her discarded jeans before moving to open a different drawer, looking through it, she picked up a long-sleeved purple shirt, staring at it, she started blinking rapidly as her vision became distorted, the seemingly innocent shirt triggering a long forgotten memory.

She was skipping down the long halls, smiling brightly at everyone she passed. She picked at the loose sleeves of her purple shirt. Bumping into someone's legs, she stumbled back. Looking up, she gasped at the pale white skin and glowing eyes. Tilting her head, she innocently asked if he was a vampire. The chuckle he let out sent chills up her spine. She slid past him, feeling an intense urge to find her Grandfather. A cloth covered hand wrapped around her mouth. She smelt something sickly sweet invade her nose. She tried struggling but she passed out in a minute. The last thing she heard was his deep voice in her ear…

"You, my dear, are going to be my greatest masterpiece."

Dropping the shirt with a jerk, Anya stumbled backwards, chest heaving as she stared at her dresser with wide unblinking eyes, she shook her head wildly, lunging forward and yanking a random shirt from the drawer, she picked up the rest of her clothes and ran towards the door, grabbing the handle, she flinched back as it disintegrated under her touch, shaking her head again, she finally realized her hand was glowing with destructive energy. Shaking her arm to dissipate the scarlet wisps, Hermione let out a long sigh before laying her hand on the door and whispering 'alohomora' under her breath, hearing the door click open, she quickly shoved a chair in front of it so it wouldn't close again. Running a hand through her curls, she dazedly walked down the hall, quickly opening and closing the bathroom door, she locked it behind her, placing her clothes on the counter, she looked up at herself in the mirror, biting her lip harshly when she saw her reflection flicker into different images, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, dropping her head. Every time she looked in the mirror she would see a little girl with wild curly brunette hair and bright sparkling brown eyes, she would see a teenager with her nose buried in a book and strict inquisitive eyes, she would see a redhead with scarlet eyes and wisps of destructive energy swirling around her. She saw so many people in the mirror and she had no idea which one was actually her.

Anya Black. Anya Maximoff. Hermione Granger. Scarlet Witch's daughter. Sirius Black's daughter. Quicksilver's niece. Magneto's granddaughter. Brightest Witch of Her Age. Harry Potter's Best Friend. Experiment 93. Masterpiece.

She had so many names. So many aliases. So many titles. She saw so many people in the mirror…

And yet… she had no idea who she really was.

"The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out"

Hermione walked into the kitchen, her bare feet leaving water prints on the tile, she grabbed a bottle of apple juice and a left-over muffin before sitting down at the island. Ripping off a piece of chocolate-chip muffin and popping it in her mouth, she slumped in her chair tiredly, tracing figures on the tabletop with her finger, she took a sip of her juice before pulling her wet hair back into a ponytail, letting her hands drop to hang by her side, she started slightly when she felt something brush against her right wrist. Looking down, Hermione saw a playing card lying on the floor, holding her breath; she leaned over, scooping up the card and flipping it over, she felt as if she had just been punched in the gut as she stared at the ace of hearts.

"The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
that are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life"

Petit coecur. Her father had called her that, it had been his version of her mother's pet-name for her. But how had it gotten in her shirt? That thought had her looking down and finally realizing that the shirt she was wearing was incredibly baggy on her petite form. The card hadn't gotten in her shirt, it had been in the secret sown-in pocket of her father's shirt sleeve. It was obviously part of the handful of her parents' things that she always packed in her school trunk to salve her homesickness and yet the very thing that had once brought her comfort now felt like it was suffocating her.

"I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
in the pain (in the pain), is there healing
in your name (in your name) I find meaning"

Blowing out a shuddering breath, Hermione let the card flutter onto the counter as her hands began to glow with the familiar scarlet wisps that she used to stare at with awe, letting out a gut wrenching sob, she barely even heard the light bulbs shattering around her nor did she feel the pain of the glass shards nicking her skin. Bringing a shaking hand up to her mouth, the distressed redhead spun on her heel and ran out the backdoor, sprinting into the forest that connected to the backyard; she ignored the branches and rocks digging into her bare feet as she sped through the trees. When she broke through the trees into a clearing and saw a beautiful lake, she finally stopped her panicked getaway and froze in a slight trance, her scarlet eyes glazed over.

"So I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'), I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'), I'm holding' on (I'm still holding')
I'm barely holding' on to you

I'm hanging' on another day
Just to see what you will throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
you said that I will be okay"

Walking closer to the stream of water, Hermione fisted the baggy grey shirt in her hands, taking a step into the lake; she gave a sad wavering little smile as she waded in deeper, the shirt bubbling up with water filling it, her tight grip the only thing holding it down. Looking around at the towering green trees surrounding her, she sent out a mental shockwave to make all the fishes dart away before taking a deep breath and submerging herself under the water. Her hair floating around her, she blinked once before she opened her mouth and let out a bloodcurdling scream, the water muffling the heartbreaking sound as a blast of scarlet energy burst from her glowing hands. Dragging her hands through her hair, she pulled at the roots harshly, her body shaking from the force of her sobs as the scarlet wisps slithered around her legs and pulled her to the bottom of the lake, she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, the wisps formed around her nose and mouth, all the fishes swimming around her in an attempt to comfort the sobbing redhead.

"The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
in the pain (In the pain) there is healing
in your name I find meaning
so I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'), I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'), I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'),
I'm barely holding' on to you

I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'), I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'), I'm holding' on (I'm still holding'),
I'm barely holding' on to you"

Will Elias sat at a metal table in his lab, peering into the microscope at the blood sample, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair and slumping in his chair, he glanced over at the unconscious woman strapped to the examination table. Wanda Maximoff. The boss had brought her in two days ago and told him to figure out how her powers worked, usually this didn't bother him, he had been working for the man for over five years after all, but he had never been required to work on a live subject, the guards had always just brought him the samples he needed and he never really had to think about where they came from… or who they came from. But still he could shake it off, remind himself that she was a mutant, that she wasn't human, that she was the daughter of a man who had tried to subjugate and/or kill the human race multiple times over the years. What he couldn't shake off was the file on his desk, the one with the name Anya Maximoff on it. He had opened it up expecting it to be about a mother or a sister but instead he had seen a picture of a seven-year-old little girl, that little shock had knocked the air out of his lungs. Wanda Maximoff had a daughter.

Every time he looked at that file all he could see was his own daughter who had the same chocolate brown eyes as Anya Maximoff, maybe that was why the picture seemed to stare at him accusingly, maybe that was why he kept seeing his daughter's name in that file, maybe that was why his throat closed and he couldn't breathe every time they referred to the innocent seven-year-old as an it… as if she wasn't even a person… because to them she wasn't. He couldn't even imagine his baby, his little Aria, being subjected to all the experiments and torture they had inflicted on Anya Maximoff, he literally couldn't, every time the thought so much as popped in his head he had to swallow down the bile in his throat or punch a wall. And that made him think… what was the difference between Aria and Anya that made them think it was okay to do this to one girl but not okay to do to the other? Because one could read minds and the other couldn't? That didn't mean anything, it didn't change anything, she was still an innocent little girl who didn't deserve any of the things they had done to her. He knew without a doubt that even if Aria did turn out to be a mutant, it wouldn't change anything; he would still love her with everything he had.

Slamming his hand on the table, Will cursed and stood up, walking over to the examination table, he glanced over his shoulder at the door, making sure the guards couldn't see what he was doing, he pulled a ring of keys out of his lab coat pocket and unlocked the power suppression cuff on her wrist. He knew that without the sedative he was supposed to give her five minutes ago that she would be waking up anytime now and he had no plans on being around when she did, he had a daughter to get home to and then he had to get in touch with a certain government agency. He had a feeling S.H.I.E.L.D would be more than happy to give him and his daughter a new life in exchange for information on HYDRA and his – now former- boss.

At the very least, he would be able to go home and kiss his daughter on the head without being disgusted about what an awful person he was.

And he really hoped that Wanda Maximoff got to do the same with her daughter. If only for that beautiful little girl in that file.

Five Minutes Later

Wanda stirred, moaning slightly, she gasped in pain, back arching as that bitch agony wrapped its hand around her heart and squeezed. Anya. This wasn't the first time she had felt secondhand pain from her daughter, she had felt it a couple of minutes after He had taken her, she had felt it again a few hours after that and then again later that night. It killed her every time she felt it, knowing that she wasn't there to comfort her daughter after the death of Remy, but the knowledge that her father and brother were there to protect and comfort her little girl helped ease her mind a little. Shifting slightly, Wanda froze, realizing that for the first time in two days she could hear the thoughts of the two guards outside the lab doors and even better she could feel that familiar chaotic energy swirling around inside her, smiling, she looked down at her wrist and saw the power suppression cuff unlocked. Conjuring up the familiar scarlet wisps, she disintegrated the straps restraining her and sat up, hopping down from the cold metal table, she walked over to the desk where folded clothes were resting, picking up the note on top of them, her eyes scanned the words for her before flipping it over, spine straightening as she saw the dated picture of her daughter from eight years ago. Laying it back on the desk gently, Wanda pulled on the military issued fatigues before reaching her mind out to the two guards outside the room, making them turn and shoot each other.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the photo again, smiling lovingly at the sight of her daughter's face, she placed it in her pocket for safe keeping before turning to the doors, face shuttering as her eyes went blank. Stalking out of the room, she didn't even glance down at the bodies lying at her feet, just continued down a few halls before pausing as four guards spun around to face her, twenty bullets flying towards her, they all glowed scarlet before miraculously missing her entirely, instead hitting the two guards that had been trying to sneak up on her. Scarlet wisps wrapped around the guns, yanking them out of the four guards' hands, they turned so the barrels were pointed at their heads and four shots sounded, causing Wanda to squeeze her eyes shut tightly before rubbing the picture lovingly and continuing on her warpath.

Turning the corner she stopped short when she saw the six guards with automatic machine guns pointed at her, raising an eyebrow, the guns glowed and when the triggers were pulled snakes came flying out instead of bullets. The guards screamed and dropped the useless guns when the snakes all turned and attacked them; they were so wrapped up in the burn of the venom coursing through their veins and the pain of their ribs being squeezed until they broke that they didn't notice the air around them shimmering and glinting red until they were sucked into the alternate reality. Scarlet Witch stalked down a few more hallways, coming upon two straggling guards, she went to slam them into the wall but before she could two arrows came out of nowhere and plunged into their eye sockets, tilting her head in confusion, she whirled around when she felt someone grab her upper arm, bringing her glowing palm up to send the person flying, she was stopped when the person yanked her arm down and a familiar voice calling her name broke through her haze.

"Clint?" Wanda questioned dazedly, her voice hoarse from lack of use and dehydration; she blinked rapidly to focus her vision on the blonde archer who had come to mean so much to her and Pietro.

"Hey, kid." Clint uttered, giving the younger girl a relieved smirk, he let out a grunt when Wanda threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, he reciprocated the action, holding her to him and cupping the back of her head paternally, "Yeah, it's nice to see you too, kid." Patting her on the back, he pulled back, brushing his lips against her temple briefly, "Now let's get you back to your kid."

Erik and Pietro walked into the kitchen, stopping short when they saw the wrecked room, the platinum-blonde speedster flashed over to the broken glass littering the floor, picking up one of the shards, he examined it closely before tilting his head back to look at the now empty light fixtures. Eyes landing on the abandoned playing card and the opened back door, realization dawned on his face and he went about cleaning up the mess, picking up the cold half-eaten chocolate-chip muffin, Pietro threw it into the trashcan, wiping up the spilled apple juice and sweeping the broken glass before any of the teenagers came in and sliced their feet.

"You're cleaning?" Erik asked his son incredulously, waving his hand to gesture at the destroyed kitchen, "Look at this place. Someone has obviously been attacked and you're cleaning?"

"No one has been attacked, Father, this is just what happens when my sister or niece lose control." Pietro explained to the older man patiently, dumping the pile of jagged shards into the trashcan, he turned to face his father, "We hadn't met yet during the Ultron incident so you didn't see Wanda's breakdown over my temporary thirteen-minute death and you were a little preoccupied during the En Sabah Nur event so you probably don't remember her explosion when he broke Peter's arm and leg but whenever Wanda – and now Anya- get angry or sad or really any intense emotion this…" The Sokovian gestured to the destruction around them before continuing, "Tends to happen. This is actually mild compared to some of the outbursts Wanda used to have after we got our abilities."

Erik tightened his jaw at the causal mention of the violent incidents that had befell his children, incidents that he had failed to stop, he hated the knowledge that he had not only failed all of his children but also his granddaughter. Levitating the pots and pans back to their original spots while straightening out the dents in the metal, he reminded himself that Pietro was alive and healthy, that Peter was alive and healthy back at the mansion, that Wanda was alive – and she was alive, if she wasn't he would have felt it, her brothers would have felt it, her daughter would have felt it, they would have felt it – and that the Avengers would her back home healthy, that Anya was alive and healthy.

"Anya?" Pietro breathed out, his voice snapping Erik out of his thoughts, they both stared at the soaking wet redhead shivering in the doorway, blood pooling under her feet as little red beads dripped from the cuts on her face, neck and hands.

Blinking at the sound of her uncle's voice, Hermione brought her blank eyes up to meet his, feeling her shoulders shaking as her stomach tightened, she started sobbing, tears chasing away the blood, "He's dead. My dad's dead. Uncle Pie." She cried, reaching her arms out for her platinum-blonde uncle. Heart clenching at her childhood nickname for him, Pietro sped over to her, embracing her in his arms tightly, he cupped the back of her neck gently, swaying them slightly. Honestly, as much as her pain was killing him, he was a little relieved that she was finally grieving for her adopted father instead of burying her feelings like she was before, it wasn't healthy and it would just lead to a giant explosion… and with her abilities, it would be a literal explosion.

Rubbing her back gently, Pietro kissed her temple before pulling back slightly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he led her out of the kitchen, beckoning his father to follow them with his head as he murmured soft words in his heartbroken niece's ear, "Come on, draga᷃, let's get you cleaned up and in bed and I'll tell you about the time Peter stole a bottle of vodka and ended up getting sat on by a 200lb man."

With a weak smile tugging at her lips, Hermione cuddled into her uncle's side, feeling her grandfather's hand smooth over her matted curls, she reached back and laced their fingers together, gripping his hand tightly as he brushed his lips against her temple softly. Deep chocolate eyes flickering from her uncle to her grandfather, Hermione felt her lips form into a small special smile as they walked up the stairs together.

Yeah, she was going to be okay.

Anya played with the loose thread on the thin blanket, sighing, she turned onto her side, pulling the pillow closer to her, she gazed over at the other bed in the cell, biting her lip as she watched the other girl shiver in the cold air, she glared though the glass wall at the bustling scientists and guards, hating them even more for not giving the Spanish girl a blanket. Sitting up in the bed, the curly haired brunette walked over to the shivering girl and placed her thin blanket over her stiff body, turning to go back to bed, she was stopped by a hand wrapping around her dainty wrist. Anya glanced back to see Laurel staring up at her with wonder, she smiled thankfully at the other girl when she beckoned her to get under the blanket with her.

Snuggling up with the other brunette, Anya rested on her side, staring into the darkness of the cell, she waited for Laurel to stop shivering before asking softly, "What do you want to do when we get out of here?" Her whisper echoing off the walls, she glanced over to see the Spanish girl staring up at the ceiling with a soft smile dancing on her lips as she contemplated the question.

"I want to see the ocean; I've never seen it before." Laurel answered, her voice a quiet whisper as she turned her head to look at the Sokovian girl, "And you?"

"I want to see my family again." Anya told her, a brilliant smile on her face as she thought about hugging all of them and telling them how much she loved and missed them, she reached down and linked her hand with Laurel's, giving it a soft comforting squeeze, "I also want to be there when you see the ocean for the first time."

"I would like that very much. I would also like to meet your family, they sound wonderful." Laurel said with a warm smile, her kind green eyes bright as she thought about the people she had heard so much about.

"They are. They really are." Anya whispered softly with a faraway gaze as a gentle loving smile tugged at her lips.

Her chest rising and falling with her quiet breathing, Hermione sighed softly in her sleep, turning onto her side, she pulled her pillow closer to her as a fond contented smile danced on her lips. Legs tangled in the covers, she brought her knees up to her chest, curling into a ball as she hugged the pillow to her chest. Brow furrowing as red wisps formed into a beautiful brunette dressed in fatigues, Hermione subconsciously reached out a hand for the woman, whimpering in her sleep slightly, her legs jerked as if she was trying to run to her.

The illusion of Wanda glided over to the sleeping teenager, hovering her hand over the red curls; she knelt down next to the bed and brushed the back of her fingers against her daughter's cheek, whispering gently, "Anya, draga᷃, wake up." Shaking her shoulder lightly, she ran a hand through the unruly curls that she just loved to brush out before bed, seeing her little girl shifting in her sleep with a quiet groan and a slight flutter of her eyelids, she once again whispered in her ear, "Come on, put᷂ina᷃ dragoste, let me see those beautiful eyes of yours."

Stretching her legs out with a slow intake of air, Hermione reluctantly let her eyes flutter open with a slight moan, jolting up in shock when she saw her mother's face in front of her, she stared at her with wide unblinking eyes, shakily reaching out a hand to touch her cheek, she breathed out disbelievingly, "Mama?"

Leaning her head into her daughter's touch, Wanda smiled lovingly at Hermione, bringing up a hand to cover hers, she pressed a kiss to the palm, tucking a few red curls behind her ear, she gently rubbed her daughter's cheek with her thumb, "Hey, inima mea, I'm coming home to you."

And Wanda officially enters the story! Okay, I really hope you guys liked this chapter because I wasn't sure I did a lot of scenes justice, like the traumatic flashbacks in the first scene, the mirror scene, the mourning in the lake scene, Pietro and Erik comforting Hermione scene, and the Wanda and Hermione reunion scene… so basically the whole chapter. I just feel like this was a very emotional chapter and I'm not very good with emotions so I'm not really sure how I did with portraying them. And you know, obviously what she went through when she was seven was very traumatic and I have never been through anything like that so again I'm not sure how I did portraying that. I just… really hope I gave all the scenes the justice they deserved. But if I didn't I really hope you guys will tell me – politely of course- so I can work on it and get better at it. And on the flipside, if I did do a good job I hope you guys will tell me because I really am very nervous about this chapter so it would make me feel a lot better.

The lake scene was inspired by Carlson Young's performance in Scream: The TV Show.

So I feel like Wanda would have this deep telepathic and empathic connection with Hermione just like I picture her having one with Pietro and Peter. And that's why she was feeling Hermione's pain from the loss of Remy even with the suppression cuff on and once it was taken off, she was able to see her thoughts and memories which is why she wasn't surprised by the red hair and why she went back to calling her Anya because she knew that Hermione had already remembered everything.

I hope you liked the breakout scene with Wanda and all her different abilities because in the movies she has telepathy and telekinesis while in the comics she has probability manipulation and reality warping so I kind of just gave her all of them. The way I imagine it is the telepathy and telekinesis is from the Tesseract experiments while the probability manipulation and reality warping is her mutation. I still don't know if I should give Pietro another ability too. What do you think?

So anyway, again I hope you liked it and please tell me what you thought of the chapter.

Translations:

Romanian:

Eu vreau sa merg acasa - I want to go home.

Opreste-I - Make it stop.

Draga᷃ - Darling.

Put᷂ina᷃ dragoste – Little love.

Inima mea – My heart.

French:

Petit coecur – Little heart.

Xxx Dark Goddess2000 Xxx