"Master Malfoy, please wake-up!" Draco was woken up by an imprudent house elf and almost smacked the thing before it continued with, "It's the Mistress Morgana, sir. Miss is lying in the hallway and no one can get her up."
At the sound of her name, Draco bolted out of bed in just his green satin pyjama bottoms and found Morgana laying in front of her door with the clothes she had last night. As he lifted her into his lap, a squish emitted from her movements. Roaming his hands around, Draco found a pool of blood had formed on the floor where she was laying on her side. It had soaked through her shirt and cloak, and right onto the floor.
"Morgana, are you still with me?" Draco urged with panic in his voice. Morgana let out a feeble breath and Draco could hear her door opening beside them. He didn't think. All Draco knew was he had to do something. She barely looked like she could make it to any hospital or infirmary. His heart and eyes dashed and skipped, but he couldn't find anything to help her.
Elenei just watched the two, and a fire started to burn in his throat when the bird didn't come to offer its tears of healing. Right when he was ready to shoo the bird away, the drawer beside him flew open and a book fell next to Morgana on the bed on a set of pages. In all of his readings, Draco could not decipher what any of it meant. At a loss for anything else, he pointed his wand towards her side and canted out the words the best he could. The words sounded foreign and nothing he was ever taught or even heard of it. It was as if Parseltongue, old Germanic, and a dead language had all been mixed together. No matter how difficult it was, Draco kept repeating the words again and again. He watched as the wound slowly closed itself as he kept going.
"Draco," Morgana moaned out when the wound had fully closed. She knew that the spell that caught her side did more than just cause a wound. She could feel the slow poison going through her veins. She knew what she had to do, and even if it was wrong, she had to do it.
Draco's hand became clenched in Morgana's and he could feel an energy drain from him. Morgana's eyes stared weakly at him under hooded lids, but did not blink. Right before he passed out from the strain, a creature he could not make out appeared in the room and he hit the ground with a sudden thud.
Morgana pushed herself up from her laying position. She had taken a lot of Draco's energy to get the poison out. Her family's book of shadows lay open beside her. She did not recall getting the book, but it would only open for her.
"Poor, sweet, Draco. Thank you for saving me." Draco had less energy than she did when she first started her family's magic. "Elenei, take Draco to his room. Make sure he's okay for the night." Her fiery bird gently floated down and picked Draco up by his arms.
Elenei couldn't have saved her, she knew that. No matter how many tears her bird shed, it would've been no use. The huntsman of the islands knew potions and alchemy that were potent and fatal. But they did not know the extent of her magic – of her family's magic.
The next morning's sun woke Morgana gently. Elenei was still away from her perch. Changing from her blood-soaked clothes, Morgana slipped into a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie. The pool of her blood that would've been in front of her door was now gone.
Before she could shut the door behind her, a house elf interrupted her motion. "Mistress, may Liddy clean your room and fetch your laundry?"
Morgana nodded. "Shut the door when you are finished and you can place my clean laundry in front of the door if I am not in it."
A few steps took her to the front of Draco's room. As she slowly pushed open the door, Elenei had her wings spread ready to attack an assailant at the foot of his bed. Realising that it was her owner, Elenei folded her wings and nestled her head in her shoulder.
Draco's room remained unchanged from their days as young children. Save for a few memorabilia from his last days at Hogwarts, his walls and desks were the same, plain wood and wallpaper from them being little. His bed had upgraded from sheets of cotton and quidditch to green, silver, and black silk.
Draco breathed peacefully and slowly in his slumber. His sculpted chest raising and falling as his calm dreams took him away from what she had done to him last night. As Morgana sat down beside him, Draco stirred. His eyes, hooded in fatigued, focused on her. "We need to talk," he groggily spoke. Morgana nodded, but didn't say a word. She reached up and pushed a strand of his platinum hair off his forehead.
It wasn't hard to admit he was handsome. The lanky, tall boy with skin and hair so fair she remembered never could've become what was in front of her. The same boy who she enjoyed tormenting with teases of her being more magically inclined now surprised her by being able to do an old spell that saved her. There was something about him that she could not shake.
"Morgana," he breathed out, pulling her out of her reverie.
She sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"Start with everything that had occurred last night," he prompted.
"I cannot tell you everything you want to know, my Dragon," she let herself slip her secret pet name for him. "But you have to understand that I am not safe. I came here running for my life and leaving this manor was a risk. Last night was proof that they've been waiting for me."
Draco caught himself after she had let a nickname for him slip from her lips. He didn't push her. He just waited. The cogs in her head were working to pick just the right words and not telling him too much. All he wanted to do was prove that he could take care of himself and her if needed, but he knew he couldn't do that to his parents.
"Last night you read a spell from my family. They are old and ancient and it takes a lot of training and inner strength. And I had to borrow some of your energy to save myself. My sword… I will explain that to you when you have energy. For now just rest, little dragon." She kissed the top of his head before leaving him to his thoughts.
She quietly closed the door behind her before sliding down its length to the floor. "Ryuu," she softly whispered. In her outstretched hands appeared the sword from last night. She forgot how beautiful it was and how much it meant to her. Morgana hadn't called out its name for a long while. The morning sun hit the encasement so it shone brightly in its darkness.
The back of her eyelids played the scene from her memory of when she came home with her katana in hand. Normally, only exceptional students received katanas from Mahoutokoro upon graduation, but Morgana had received hers at 13. It surprised her father and grandfather, but the shock wore off quickly to be replaced by pride and genuine happiness. Her two Japanese elders pulled out their katanas and rang their blades' songs with hers.
Just like theirs had been, hers had the darkest of blacks as the colour of the tsuka and a matching saya. But unlike theirs, her samegawa had been dyed a crimson red to match her and her enemies' blood. The blade itself was polished and crafted perfectly. The rune reading its name on the bottom of the blade, only she could utter.
Her father and grandfather tested her. She could clearly remember their faces of shock when the songs stopped harmonising and the two weather-tested blades contacted her new one. They knew it was powerful; they could feel it fight back against both of their blades. Mahoutokoro blades were the deadliest of blades. They kept the wielder's secrets, memories, and thoughts within and harnessed power as strong as the person who could dance with the sword. And as long as one had the strength of mind and soul, the blade would deflect curses and runes alike.
As she extracted Ryuu from its saya, the light danced magically around the blade. Not long ago she remembered it vibrating with the spells it deflected the blood of the four unnamed wizards rolling down with the vibrations.
Teasing herself, she held the katana at the base of her pinky. She had an uncle on her father's side that was missing a pinky. He had disgraced the family and was disregarded as a soldier soon after his finger stopped bleeding. Morgana remembered his sword being taken away and plunged into a sakura tree in the never ending garden.
She whispered its name, and her majestic blade disappeared into the air. Time had passed her without her awareness. Draco soon came out after her blade disappeared and was livelier in appearance than when she had last lain eyes on him.
"You look good, Draco," she said as she fully took in his half-dressed appearance.
"What are you not telling me, Morgana?" he lowly said as she stood up off the ground.
She stared straight at him with no expression. The look chilled him. The lack of emotion in her eyes took away her humanity and she seemed empty to him. "You will be safe," was all she said before she turned back to her room.
When she was safe in the confines of her room, Morgana found she was clutching the hand that had held Draco's all night. It was nice and protective, and if she could, she would've followed with the Malfoy's wishes to marry their son. Her own mother and father probably would've found a better match, but they couldn't deny that they treated each other well in the time that was spent together.
Although she didn't act like it, Morgana inherited both of her parents' pride. The Iaculus name was much older than the Malfoy's and Black's. The family book showed every member, none of which having been disowned. There was no shame in the Iaculus name or in any of its members. She could see her mother, Sapphire, and her grandfather, Thelonious, weighing the benefits of being with a Malfoy. It had crossed their minds before, but there were always better options.
The Diamanté name was different. If the Iaculus name was old, the Diamanté's name was ancient. At first it was odd to have a strong Japanese family with English names and a foreign family name, but the magical world never looked at it for long in fear of the then current head of family, Aldric Diamanté. Their pride was unlike any Morgana had the knowledge of. They didn't act like it, but in the family it was strongly felt. Names were forgotten and certain lines ended. Forsaken members were missing body parts in cases of extreme shame to the family.
It would've taken a lot for both of her parents to even consider the Malfoy's.
The dragon tattoo on her back started to sear with a dull pain. The sudden sensation down her back caused her to let out a low hiss. In hear mind's ears, she was returned the hiss with a deeper, growing one.
Not thinking twice, Morgana jumped out her window and landed on the backyard grounds with a soft 'thunk'. Nothing was around her, but the tattoo kept hissing and slowly it was starting to growl in her mind. She looked behind her at the manor and found that Draco was in his room. But it didn't give her a sense of calmness. Her runner cladded feet padded down to the grass where the wind picked up just slightly. Far at the very edge of the grounds was a pair of glowing white eyes.
A/N: just a little information, 'ryuu' is the romanicsed version of the kanji word for 'dragon'
Thank you all for reading, putting up with my horrible writing, and slow updates!
