Sorcerer Supreme at Hogwarts (English Versión)-Chapter 65: "Wanda’s POV" [Edited]

Wanda's POV

After saying something that seriously annoyed Stephen, I was sitting here trying to hold back my laughter.

Should I start from the very beginning, right?

There I was, like a puppet, being controlled by destruction, greed, and chaos.

When you have three super-powerful entities trying to control you, all you can do is simply float wherever you are, waiting for your release.

In the darkness or the abyss.

For some reason, I could see other universes, and that was the only thing keeping me sane. Mentally, of course, since my body was destroying realities.

So, while I watched all the versions of me being happy, some not so much, I found him.

An anomaly just like me. But he had complete control over himself. At first, I thought about that. But later, I realized that even though he was free, he had to follow a predetermined path. And if he deviated, he was punished. Even if the punishments were silly, they were still punishments for being free.

I felt a little envious of him, and at the same time, I realized he also lived in a cage. Obviously, not like mine, since this one was destroying a planet right now.

He always helped however he could. But with that device that contained him, I saw his smile disappear quickly, turning his movements and expressions monotonous, as if he were becoming a mere puppet.

What an idiot. He has control over his body. Why doesn't he just break free from those psychological chains and tell everything to go to hell? What an idiot...

Then, one day, one of the people who created those psychological chains finally died, and he felt free. He started changing things to his liking.

He even fixed the life of the Wanda from his world so she could live with her husband and children.

But even so, he kept fulfilling the tasks imposed on him without realizing it. Even when he was surrounded by his friends and family, he truly wasn't with them.

Maybe I also wanted to be part of his friends. I wanted him to save me like he did with the others. But it no longer looked like he enjoyed saving anyone. It was just his job. A duty imposed on him for being an anomaly from another world.

Watching him became something fun to pass the time. And I had a lot of free time. It's a weird feeling, but fun at the same time. The last time I felt this way was with my twin brother. A brother my body mercilessly killed. I could see him smiling at me while trying to bring me back.

I saw how every single one of my family members was murdered by my own hands.

Searching, I found my salvation in one of the primordial forces of the universe: the Phoenix Force, an entity that, obviously, I couldn't control.

At least it kept the chaos within me entertained. So, I ended up floating in space, unable to move. But that was enough for a while. But it seemed the universe wasn't going to leave me alone, and another force appeared, one that wanted to devour everything.

A destructive force that, to be honest, I don't even know where it came from. Anything else?

And that's when everything got worse.

Only destruction came, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year.

Meanwhile, he fulfilled all his purposes to be free, and I'm still here, floating in the abyss. If I were in front of him, he could stop me, I thought.

I felt a little guilty because he didn't even know me, but I also wanted his help.

I wanted to be free, too, and maybe he could stop me.

If he did, he would even kill me to stop me. And I would be grateful for that.

In a rare moment of lucidity where I could control my body, the first thing I did was go to him. Like a moth to the flames. The flames that would finally put an end to me.

He accepted with a conflicted look. Although the conflict seemed more with himself than with killing me to stop me.

Our fight lasted for months. Always at the same level, which caused changes in several solar systems.

For some reason, Stephen was smiling like a madman. Maybe it was the first time he fought with all his power, truly enjoying one of his tasks. It was the real Stephen fighting to the death.

That made me smile, too. We were truly two psychopaths fighting with everything we had.

But it was time to end it. I needed to be stopped. Even though this time was fun, and I could regain my consciousness, the things inside me could wake up at any moment.

So, I begged him to kill me.

I truly didn't want to return to that place; I'd rather die.

He stopped, looked at me intently while something went through his mind, and what he did next surprised me. That damn lunatic completely exploded, taking me with him. Or rather, he made me take him with me. Why?

Why did he do that? Now I feel even more guilty for asking for his help. What a great fool.

And what the hell were those screams at the end?

That embarrassed me, although I wished that if I were to be reborn, it would be as his older sister. Even though I know it was just a plea to the air.

But I have to repeat it.

He literally exploded. Seriously, you crazy bastard? Wasn't there a better way?

Well, I'm no one to talk, but that was cool... not what he screamed, but the explosion itself. Maybe he could be the older brother in the next life.

As I watched the last ray of light, waiting for my disappearance, something... strange happened.

I revived. Or rather, I was reborn.

I appeared in front of an old house, quite strange. And before I could even scream, a kind lady came out the door and saw me.

She took me in, cared for me, and fed me. And in the end, she adopted me.

It all happened so fast that I couldn't process everything. In my defense, I was a baby who could only stay awake for a couple of hours, so...

Although I was happy to be reborn, free and all that, I still lived with the guilt of Stephen's death.

I also felt a little lonely, and even though the grandmother who adopted me was always by my side, I had no family.

Pretty sad thoughts for a baby, right?

The grandmother, seeing my loneliness, enrolled me in a magical kindergarten. Yes, magical, didn't I mention that? The grandmother who adopted me was a witch. And a pretty powerful one in her time.

It seems I was one too because when I cried, the house would shake. Great, a witch again...

But it seemed like witches were pretty normal. I mean, not like they were everywhere since they lived hidden, but there was a fairly widespread magical world.

Back to the magical kindergarten, it was pretty clumsy. The kids were cute, but annoying at the same time.

And that's when I saw him.

A blond boy with blue eyes, exuding magic wherever he went, pretty smart for his age, and I knew the moment I saw him.

He was my brother. I mean, aside from his appearance being the same as mine—hair and eyes—I could feel it in my blood and his blood.

A skill I noticed we shared when he told a classmate that he had a hereditary curse. Haha, something that made his friend cry.

So, I stayed away. First, I wanted to see what he was like. If he could accept me, if he knew who our parents were. We are quite handsome and strong, so they must be very beautiful and powerful.

When I was about to introduce myself as his older sister, what I least expected happened, something that would shatter my hopes of having a real family.

Don't get me wrong, I love Grandma, but I wanted to have a connection.

Then, while I was heading to where he was training or playing with his friends, I heard his name, something that left me momentarily stunned: "Stephen."

Seriously? Quite a... bad coincidence.

But that didn't stop me; after all, it was just a name. Until I heard what they were talking about.

The mystical arts, and that Stephen was trying to recreate Eldritch magic.

Seriously? How didn't I notice? I mean, I fought him to the death for months; I should recognize those movements while he was training.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

We also went to the garden almost every year, and I just found out his name.

In my defense, in the other life, it took me more years to learn his name.

But I recognized him. He was the Stephen who stopped me, dying with me along the way.

And so, my guilt resurfaced. Especially when I found out that he didn't have parents either, just grandparents.

Although they didn't shout it from the rooftops, it was obvious he was adopted. After all, his grandparents were the Flamel couple.

Supposedly, the Flamel family adopted him from a noble pureblood family in France. But I knew he was like me.

There went my dream of meeting my brother and our parents. And of being the older sister, because I promised he would be. Damn.

The worst part is that guilt didn't let me get close to him. After all, he lost everything because of me.

And even though I finally found my family, my brother... I couldn't be with him. So, I ran away.

I dyed my hair. That wasn't hard; magic makes everything easy. I used makeup so I wouldn't look like him, just in case I ran into him. After all, we both lived in France.

I even chose Ilvermorny, thinking he would go to Beauxbatons, but it seems he went to Hogwarts and even moved away.

How strange.

As I grew up, I kept hearing about him all the time, winning tournaments and showing his strength. As his sister, I felt proud, but also conflicted.

So, I started recovering my magic too. And well, it wasn't that hard. After all, my magic is more about feeling it. I just had to go "fush, wass, paw" and I learned it.

Though when I explained it to others, they looked at me weird. What idiots.

I wanted to learn about the Eldritch magic book Stephen published under a pseudonym, but it was quite technical and required a lot of study. Without a teacher, it was difficult.

So, I could only create simple weapons, although I found it easier to use my own magic.

After years of running away from Stephen, my grandmother found out.

She was a bit mad at me for being a coward, but she supported me.

When she got sick, I left school to take care of her. Of course, I went to take my exams, so I was always the top of the class.

Too bad Grandma couldn't use the Life Potion like the Flamels.

She, as a doctor, used a different method to extend her life nearly 300 years, but that meant she couldn't stretch it any further, or her soul would be destroyed.

As a farewell, she dropped a bomb on me.

She brought the Flamels home and told them about my existence. Leaving them, and me, completely stunned.

Then she passed away with a smile, asking Mrs. Perenelle to take care of me. And so, she began turning into dust that flew out the window.

It was a spell she placed on herself before dying, as she didn't want a burial or anything like that.

I was very sad until I heard Mrs. Perenelle calling for me. Then I got really nervous.

Every minute that passed increased my anxiety. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't even get up from the chair.

Until I heard the arrival of two guests. I already knew who they were: those who would probably become my siblings.

It was a strange mix of emotions.

I tried to calm myself and sit comfortably, not showing any vulnerability.

I didn't know if he would recognize me just by the blood we shared. And for some reason, an intrusive thought told me to show who I was.

That thought won. Right before Stephen opened the door, I changed into the clothes I wore in the last moment before dying.

I tried to keep a big smile and apologize with all my being.

But when Stephen opened the door, he looked at me... and then closed it. Then he started doing his nonsense in the room next door. That made me angry.

It really pissed me off. I didn't want to apologize to that fool anymore. He's supposed to be my brother, and he despises me like that?

I mean, he was the one who chose to destroy several galaxies trying to be cool. Sure, I asked for his help, but he chose that dumb way to end everything. He could've just pierced my heart, but his choice to escape was that one.

It's still my fault for asking for help, but who knew he had suicidal tendencies? Even thanks to me, he met that pretty blonde from France when before he couldn't even hold a woman's hand.

After thinking about it for a second, I didn't want to apologize anymore. Siblings don't need that. They simply show their love by making each other's lives impossible, right? So, what were all those years of guilt for?

For some reason, I couldn't control the big smile on my face. When I heard he was about to come back in, I was still smiling.

At least, as the mature sister I am, I'll apologize first. Then I'll make his life impossible.

To my older brother...