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Agatha's expression did a full one-eighty in the blink of an eye. The ecstasy and greed vanished. In their place bloomed a beaming, almost fawning smile.
She rubbed her hands together and stepped behind Hermione like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh my, Lady Witch — you've been standing this whole time. You must be exhausted."
Agatha kneaded Hermione's shoulders with practiced care, pressure just right, like she'd rehearsed it a thousand times.
No helping it. Circumstances were stronger than pride.
Even if Hermione had taken down Dormammu through trickery, it was still a solid, real kill.
She, Agatha Harkness, had lived for centuries. What hadn't she seen?
But this — this she had genuinely never seen.
Taking it by force was off the table. The endless energy of the Dark Dimension was still beckoning. To claim that inheritance, what was a little dignity worth?
She'd done plenty of shameless things in her long life. Becoming the subordinate of some girl who-knows-how-many generations younger seemed... not entirely unacceptable?
At least this "Dark Witch" looked a lot more agreeable than that old fossil, the Ancient One.
Hermione glanced at her, laughing inwardly.
She recalled the old witch's history, gifted from birth, black-hearted and ruthless. She'd defected from the Salem Coven, drained the magic from her own mother and coven-mates, and spent centuries stopping at nothing for power. A born villain, unapologetically evil.
In her world, there was nothing but the hunger for power. She'd discard anything to grow stronger.
And yet, the curious thing was, as long as you didn't touch that core interest, she could act quite amiable. Gave people the distinct impression that "this person is actually rather nice."
"So, the Witch Cult..." Hermione drew out the words, watching Agatha.
"Join! I absolutely must join!" Agatha didn't even pause. "From this day forward, I, Agatha Harkness, am a member of the Witch Cult!"
She couldn't drain Hermione, couldn't beat her, and Hermione held the key to everything Agatha had ever wanted, the masterless Dark Dimension. In a situation like this, if she didn't latch onto this patron right now, when would she?
Hermione nodded, satisfied, and held the Book of Cagliostro back out to Agatha. "Take it. You'll need it when you start studying the Dark Dimension."
Agatha received it with both hands like it was a priceless relic, her whole face lighting up.
She meant it, too. Not an ounce of pretense, not the slightest thought of backing out.
As long as her power kept growing, never mind being a subordinate, she'd dance at the gates of Kamar-Taj if that's what it took.
And she had the faint sense that this "Dark Witch" standing in front of her, in her hunger for power, in certain aspects of how she moved through the world, was fundamentally the same kind of person.
Different paths. Same destination.
The big villain and the little villain exchanged a smile. Everything understood, nothing said. A silent understanding settled between them.
Nearby, Tom Riddle and Wanda were staring with completely blank expressions, utterly failing to follow the logic of these two.
One second they were fighting to the death, the next, it was a master-and-subordinate reunion?
"Alright, Agatha." Hermione withdrew her gaze. "Since you've joined, you'll be responsible for teaching her from here on out."
She pointed at Wanda, who was still hovering behind Tom Riddle. "You've seen her potential. Guide her properly, and don't get any more ideas about absorbing her power."
"Relax." Agatha shrugged. "You're the boss. You call the shots."
She casually tossed the Darkhold to Wanda. "Here. This belongs to you."
With the masterless Dark Dimension to absorb from freely, who needed this thing, along with the risk of getting corrupted by Chthon on top of it? The Darkhold was the Scarlet Witch's weapon by nature anyway. Giving it back was just returning it to its rightful owner.
Wanda instinctively stepped back, clutching Tom Riddle's arm, unwilling to touch that book that radiated pure menace.
Tom Riddle sighed. "If Hermione thinks it's fine, then it's fine. Take it."
"B-but..." Wanda glanced up at him quietly. "Can't you teach me instead?"
She trusted Tom Riddle more, he'd saved her, and he seemed far more reliable than the other two.
Tom Riddle's frown deepened.
"A wizard's magic system is completely different from yours. Helping you through your initial awakening was already the limit of what I could do. I can't teach you anything beyond that. Agatha is genuinely the best mentor for you. Study with her." His voice was flat. "I'm busy. I don't have time to look after you."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Wanda's face, and she lowered her head.
Hermione's gaze moved back and forth between them, and something like amusement crossed her face.
No way...
Who would have thought — Voldemort, playing the knight in shining armor.
Wanda knew that Hermione was the one truly in charge here. She snuck a careful look, quietly sizing up this legendary "Dark Witch."
This girl in front of her, who looked even younger than Wanda herself, radiated a pressure that made it hard to meet her eyes directly.
Wanda gathered her nerve. "I... I want to go back first. Tell my brother Pietro."
Only then did Hermione remember, Wanda had a twin.
Not that this particular Quicksilver was anything to write home about. A speedster taken down by bullets. Truly painful to contemplate.
Wanda was a born Scarlet Witch, a vessel for Chaos Magic. Even without the Mind Stone's catalysis, her power would awaken in time regardless.
Pietro was a different story. His abilities had been manufactured through experimental modification after the fact. The ceiling was low, and he had a talent for dying at the worst moments, which meant a talent for sending Wanda into a rampage.
For his own sake, it was better to let him live out a quiet, ordinary life.
Hermione nodded. "Go ahead."
Wanda turned to Tom Riddle with a thread of hope in her eyes. "Can you take me back?"
His frown went a degree deeper. A low pulse of irritation ran through him.
What was this girl's problem? He'd just casually thought to recruit a promising newcomer for the Witch Cult. How had she decided that meant she could follow him around?
Hermione watched his expression and felt genuinely baffled.
Wasn't Tom Riddle supposed to be good at this sort of thing? How had two years in her company turned him into a sigma male?
Before he could open his mouth to refuse, Hermione said it herself: "Tom Riddle, take Wanda back."
"..."
He shrugged, resigned.
The boss had spoken. What choice did he have?
With clear reluctance, he reached out and took hold of Wanda's arm. A faint crack split the air, and both of them vanished.
Agatha watched the spot where they'd disappeared, already flipping eagerly through the Book of Cagliostro, drinking in the secrets of the Dark Dimension, and clicked her tongue.
"That young man has absolutely no sense of romance."
"I never would have guessed those two would end up in each other's orbit either." Hermione rubbed her temple. "Well. Let things unfold as they will."
She turned back to Agatha and shifted topics.
"By the way, what was all that about the 'Dark Witch' earlier? I've only been off-planet for a few months. How do I already have another new nickname?"
➤ Next: Tony's Request — The Conversation
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