Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thank you all so very much for your favorites and reviews. I love love love hearing from you and every time I see a favorite I literally squeal. I'm very quickly running out of writing time in my weekly schedule so there may be some larger gaps in posting times, but I'll do my best to stick to an every two weeks basis. As always, I own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling and the creators of Merlin, though if I did own something I'd save Sirius and the Marauders from JK before she decides that they were secretly squibs or something, and I'd most definitely not kill off Gwaine, he was one of my favorite characters in Merlin. Also the rating has gone up if you haven't noticed. Subsequent chapters will include mild smut, graphic violence, and other adult themes as I start to move quicker in time. I'm also considering posting some outtakes, mainly scenes that don't fit with the larger story right now, and some of a more, explicit nature (those will probably just be on AO3 cause I'm paranoid). Let me know what you think!
Chapter Text
Chapter Seven: A New Friend, and A New Enemy
The sun had been up for hours, but Morgana herself had been up long before it. A week had passed since she did the blood ritual to bind herself to Harry as his guardian and they were about to make their first step into Wizarding society by having tea with Narcissa at Malfoy Manor. While she knew that Narcissa was her friend, her husband Lucius Malfoy had sided with the idiot Dark Lord previously and Morgana was wary about bringing her young charge in his vicinity, but she knew Harry needed to meet more people and children close to his age like Narcissa's son. He'd grown in leaps and bounds over the last week, slowly showing more and more trust in her and in the house elves as they all worked to make the Corvus house a home. He'd begun to show interest in learning from her as well, his reading skills far surpassing what she expected of a child at his age. She'd noted already that his verbal skills were better than most four-year old's, and though she had talked to his nursery teacher Ms. Carp about it, hearing that her ward was intelligent beyond his age and seeing it was something altogether different. She suspected it had something to do with his isolation from most children his age, or perhaps it was because of his parents, from her research into them, both James and Lily Potter had been incredibly intelligent individuals.
In some of the reading she'd done on child rearing, if parents started reading to children as early as infancy, it could help stimulate the child's learning ability. Whatever was the cause, she was pleasantly surprised by his ability to learn and eagerness to, it was something that reminded her of her as a child; her father Gorlois used to read to her each night before she went to bed to ward off her nightmares.
As she made her way down the stairs to the library, she spotted Harry sitting in his customary chair, a book in hand and his legs curled under him. A cup of tea with steam still faintly rising from the surface sat on the end table next to him. Smiling she called for Bitty and asked her to bring some light snacks before lunch and then sat down across from Harry. Studying his face as he puzzled over each word he read, his mouth sounding out ones he didn't know, smiling at those he did, he was a joy to watch. As Bitty popped back in with a small tray of cucumber sandwiches, their go-to snack, she decided to broach the subject of his reading with Harry.
"Harry, can I ask why you like reading so much?"
Harry paused from his book, it was a picture chapter book detailing the adventures of siblings in a magical world. Someone had gotten it for Dudley after Aunt Petunia's boasting of her son's prowess in school and when he couldn't read, forced Harry to do it for him, making him do his cousins homework and punishing him when he got it wrong. He had to teach himself quickly, and soon found he liked reading as it allowed him to escape for a little while.
Once, a few weeks before Morgana had shown up, after Aunt Petunia took a pan to his hand, bruising it for days because he couldn't fry the eggs properly for breakfast, he was hiding in his cupboard in pain and bored, wishing for something to take his mind from the pain. Suddenly, a loud thump startled him from his thoughts and when he looked down he saw several of Dudley's books gifted by a neighbor on the floor. He knew they were too advanced, for Dudley or for him, but he wanted a way to stop thinking of the pain and so he started to read them. He'd learned lots of new words from them, and was excited whenever he was able to use them. It set him apart from Dudley, but in a good way. Unlike his cousin, he had a brain! Thinking on Morgana's question, he went for the easiest answer, "It lets me escape, I can hide in a book, like in my cupboard, but books...they're fun and bright, not like the cupboard."
Morgana winced at the mention of the cupboard, but was inwardly pleased he'd had the escape mechanism of the books, it was a far better method than some.
"I can understand, after my father...Gorlois died and I moved to Camelot, I was sad all the time. One of the ways I lifted my mood was going riding with my maid, Gwen or practicing with a sword. I couldn't do those too often though, they weren't befitting of a lady, and so I found solace in painting, of all things. I can teach you, if you're interested?"
Harry thought about the paintings he'd seen around the house and wondered which were actually hers. Nodding shyly, he took another bite of the sandwich she'd set in front of him. She was always doing that, putting food in front of him, making sure he drank water and milk, and at night several nasty potions that she said would help with his growth and what his aunt and uncle did to him.
Smiling at Harry's shy acceptance, Morgana plotted out the evenings course. After a week of acclimating to his new life, she'd decided Harry was ready to start meeting more people of the world he was a part of. She'd invited the Malfoy's over for dinner, in part to introduce Harry to someone his own age, and in part to gauge whether she could turn Lucius into a pawn. Though from what Narcissa had told her, the man's empty-headed, blind ambition had him following whoever carried the biggest stick, so it shouldn't be too hard. He was a coattail rider through and through.
She'd talked to the House elves to make sure everything was spic and span, and gone over the menu four times. Her debate over what she and Harry would wear lasted quite a while though, as he flat out refused to wear the dress robes they'd bought. They finally settled on several nice muggle suits he could choose from that they'd bought at Harrod's and had tailored to hold the Potter crest on the right breast. She herself was modeling a dress from Harrod's, deep red with a high neck but open shoulders. It was very similar to one she wore in Camelot to shock the lords and ladies, though this one was even more daring with its open back and bare shoulders, completely flaunting pure blood culture, yet at the same time screaming wealth and excess. She wore a silver necklace that looped around the front of the dress, at the end of the necklace was her family crest, gifted to her by Gorlois for her seventh birthday. It bore a loose figure eight, with spirals and loops curling around the bottom half to curl into the outer edges. The one good thing Uther had done for his friend was place the symbol on his headstone upon his death. She'd been comforted every time she went to his grave, clinging to her pendant as she cried before its larger effigy. Blinking back the tears that welled up at the memory of Gorlois, she turned to her young ward and let a small smile settle on her face as his face was buried back in his book.
"Harry, have you laid out your outfit for dinner tonight?"
"Yes…" Harry drew out his answer as set the book down on his lap and tugged on his shirtsleeves, he hadn't actually laid it out, he was hoping she would help him. She'd said it was a dinner to meet a friend of hers and her family, and he wanted to look good, to show Morgana that he was worth taking in.
"Really?" Morgana arched an eyebrow as she drawled out her response, knowing instinctively that he had not. Every day she was blown away by how much Harry reminded her of Arthur and to some extent, Merlin. Taking him by the hand she led him up to his room and set to the task of picking from the four options available, oblivious to the small smile on her charge's face as they bickered.
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Harry shifted in his seat as he watched Morgana lead conversation between their guests. Bitty introduced them as Lord and Lady Malfoy and their son, Draco. He was nervous before their introductions, but after, hearing that they were a Lord and Lady made him sick to his stomach. He was a freak, and they were gonna know it! He just knew that it would be awful. Picking up his fork, he pushed the roast on his plate around, his stomach tossing at the idea of eating it. A piece of bread suddenly appeared in front of him and when he looked for the source he saw the boy that Morgana had said she wanted him to befriend.
"You look sick, your face is all scrunchy. When I'm sick, Dobby gives me bread," Draco whispered, his grey eyes wide as Harry turned a beaming smile on the boy.
"Thanks," nibbling on the bread, Harry thought about what they could talk of, he didn't know much about wizards yet, "What's your favorite toy?" he settled on that as he knew Dudley used to love talking about his toys to other kids at nursery. Grinning at the question, Draco launched into his answer.
"I have a dragon, he's a Hebridean Black, they're one of the largest and scariest. His name is Sazar, for Sazar Slytherin."
"Cool. Mine's a little wolf Morgana got me, his name is Mooey," Harry wasn't sure where the name came from, it just felt right when she'd handed the stuffed animal to him, it felt familiar.
"Cool," and with that icebreaker, the two hit it off pretty well, trading their favorite things to do and funniest stories over the rest of the meal.
Morgana smirked as she watched Harry and Draco exchange stories of their experiences with magic so far, the two boys lighting up at every sentence. Turning her attention back to the other adults in the room, she pushed down her distaste at Lucius Malfoy's sneering visage. He'd spent much of the meal making snide comments about her ward and her uncultured upbringing in the colonies. Of course, she hadn't been brought up in America, and court life in Camelot was as cutthroat and vicious as any other court and so she politely smiled back at his comments and held in her rage. Narcissa tried to intervene at several points, aware that her husband was not making a good first impression on her new friend, but Lucius didn't seem to understand the concept that women could think for themselves.
"So, Narcissa tells me you're looking into getting your Mastery in a History of Magic both European and American, what drew you to that field?" Lucius' drawl drew her back to the conversation.
Taking a sip of the elven wine Narcissa had recommended, Morgana once again drew on the guise she'd worn for years as courtier in Camelot. A small smirk played across her lips as she raised an eyebrow at the Malfoy Lord's thinly veiled judgement.
"Well… I already have my Masteries in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm planning on applying for a Transfiguration apprenticeship soon, and to be honest," she paused and bared her teeth in a feral grin, pleased as the blonde prat shuddered slightly at her expression, "We can learn so many things from our past, so many mistakes that could be avoided, if lessons were only taught properly." There. Let the man make of that what he will, she was imminently pleased as she watched him hide behind the veneer of pleasantries, obviously already scheming. Being a board member and governor of Hogwarts, he had the ear of those who decide the curriculum at her ward's future school, and what better way to keep an eye on him there than by filling a teaching slot on the bequest of one of their esteemed governors.
"I think it's wonderful you're still so engaged in academia, it should prove helpful in your raising of young Harry," Narcissa added, her painted pink lips pulled into a subtler version of Morgana's smile, yet still maintaining the cat that ate the canary vibe.
"Yes, Harry is my first and foremost priority," Morgana looked over at the boy in question, her eyes softening as he played with Draco, the two of them creating a swiftly melting castle out of their ice cream.
"It did come as a surprise for some, that you would so suddenly sweep in and take the young Potter boy under your wing, being from the colonies as you are," Lucius said after a moment's silence.
"Yes, it came as a surprise to me as well. But I happened upon him when I was in Surrey—looking at an old property of my father's—and seeing the poor boy, so thin and abused, well I had to act. I watched him hide from his cousin and friends one afternoon, I didn't even know he was Harry Potter at the time, he just looked like a small child, barely older than a toddler to be honest. He was hiding under a bush and a group of slightly older boys were poking sticks at him, when all of the sudden," Morgana threw up her hands to mimic the effect of his magic, "The sticks went flying. I knew then he was one of us, and after some digging I found out who he was and went straight to my lawyer…you know I think you know him, Ted Tonks?" the sly smile that spread across Morgana's face as Lucius Malfoy, Head of the Most Noble House of Malfoy spewed elf wine across the table, coughing into his napkin in a hurry to hide his horrific faux pas, had Narcissa grinning into her own glass. "Anyways, Mr. Tonks helped me draw up the papers, and with some character witnesses against young Harry's guardians then, well it was a done deal. I took in him as my ward, thanks to Eldritch Diggory's foresight, and I couldn't be happier for the decision."
Wiping his mouth, Lucius attempted to pull together his dignity, very aware that his son and the young Potter brat had caught him spewing wine like a vulgar muggle. Straightening his cravat, he leveled a gaze at the Lady Le Fey and attempted to poke holes into her guardianship of the brat. She was young and foreign, there were many better candidates for rearing the Heir Potter than her, and he was determined to get her to see it.
"I must say, while I am impressed you got the poor child out of such a situation…it occurs to me, that there may be others, better suited to rear a child. Perhaps those with families of their own, who are blood related to the boy?"
Morgana tapped her lacquered nails against her glass, thankful for this modern world's attention to war paint of various forms, the blood red polish she'd selected made her feel particularly vicious and she went in for the kill with this particular victim, "Oh, you wouldn't know…but we are blood related. Harry's mother, Lily Potter nee Evans, was of Le Fey blood. A second cousin once removed from a squib line if I recall correctly."
The color drained from Lucius's face as her words began to sink in, but it started to return as she continued talking.
"Of course, you are right that Harry should be with family, which is why I wanted to discuss something of grave importance with you two in regards to your connections to the House of Black. Your current Heir Apparent, Sirius Orion Black III, is wasting away in Azkaban, unlawfully and most importantly, innocently—and I have the documents to prove it."
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Morgana knew she'd have to move carefully in her manipulations of Lucius Malfoy after the dinner. He'd been easy to mold then, as she was an unknown to him and was therefore able to surprise him. Laying in bed that night, she pondered over avenues she could use to exploit or blackmail him; Narcissa had been a font of information about his likes and dislikes. While she didn't love her husband, Narcissa also wasn't uncaring towards him either, though their marriage bed had long been cold, Lucius claiming that one child was all that was needed and that while Narcissa was beautiful, her unwillingness to adapt to his tastes kept him from her bed. A smirk slid across Morgana's face as she thought of the perfect way to make the Malfoy Lord more amiable to her plans.
Settling back into the plush pillows Bitty had fluffed earlier that day, Morgana took a sip of her nighttime tea and pulled out the book she'd been reading the night prior: A History of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black by Phineas Black.
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black could be traced back through to the Middle Ages, when a knight loyal to Richard the Lionheart was ennobled during the Crusades, that Knight, Geoffrey Brice of Somerset, took the surname Black after his battle winning tactics of charming the shields and armor of his command black to blend in to the nighttime surroundings as they crept along an encampment of Moors.
Geoffrey Black however, was also a descendant, though very distantly and unknown to him, of Morgana Le Fey. Her daughter Alannah Le Fey had two children, a son and a daughter. The daughter, Gwenyth, married a son of Sir Leon of Camelot and continued on the Le Fey line matrilineally. The son, Alastor, married a Druid girl by the name of Cliodna, who discovered the properties of moondew, and the two created their own House of Gealach.
House Gealach was a prominent Irish House for two hundred years, until the grandfather of Geoffrey, Aedan moved to London in search of an English Bride with new blood to invigorate their House. He then married Elizabeth Brice of Somerset, a first-generation witch from the family, and had Henry Brice, Geoffrey's father. Geoffrey's mother was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin by the name of Isolt Gaunt. Geoffrey, being a second son, used his new title of Lord Black of Ravenstree, a small farming community just south of Somerset, to marry Alexia Fawley of Pagford, and cemented the new Black line with sons Ara Black, Corvus Black, and Serpens Black, as well as their four daughters Lyra, Delphini, Ankaa, and Electra, looking to the stars for names and starting a new tradition in the process.
Morgana slid a marker in the tome she was reading, she'd anticipated the history of House Black would be lengthy as they were not only one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but also one of the oldest families in Wizarding Britain, but to find out they were distantly descended from her, well that was something she didn't expect, and it solidified her desire to free Harry's godfather from his unlawful imprisonment all the more.
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Sitting in his office, surrounded by portraits of his predecessors, Albus Dumbledore was inwardly seething. He'd just received an owl from Mrs. Figg stating that the Potter boy was no longer a resident at Number Four, Privet Drive. When he'd gone over to demand answers from the Dursley's, they slammed the door in his face.
Him! Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, The Defeater of Gellert Grindelwald, Leader of the Light, Head of the Order of the Phoenix, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Headmaster of Hogwarts.
He'd tried to force his way inside, but the blood wards, which should have deactivated upon the boy's removal from the home, threw him back (little did he know that a certain meddling warlock had fiddled with the wards when his female counterpart left with her new charge). Coming back to the castle, he'd immediately fired off several owls to the Ministry to find out who had taken the boy from the Dursley's, after all he was his magical guardian as he stressed in each letter.
The first response from the Minister hadn't been helpful, and the subsequent responses from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had been even worse. Amelia Bones' howler nearly singed his eyebrows as she raged at him for losing the Boy-Who-Lived, and her directions to do nothing as she investigated what happened had him bristling in his chair. Whoever had taken the boy would rue the day they messed with him. He had plans for the boy. Voldemort was most certainly not gone, and as long as the boy remained at large in questionable care of a stranger, he knew those plans would never pan out. The boy needed to be meek and shy, malleable and easy to manipulate with his grandfatherly presence. He needed a martyr, and he would only get one if the boy was raised humbly, something no wizarding family would be able to do.
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Of course, Dumbledore didn't know that forces beyond him were changing the game. His chess board had been wiped out, the pieces scattered across Britain, and a new game was created. Not chess, but something infinitely older and more powerful. The Old Religion was returning, its players set to take the Wizarding World by storm, because a storm was coming for New and Old Magic alike, and things would need to change for either to survive.
Sitting back in his plush leather chair he'd liberated from a stuffy pureblood politician in Italy, Merlin placed the Crystal of Neahtid on his desk. Events had been set into motion at the turn of the century, the 1900's marking a descent into darkness and chaos. Two world wars filled with carnage and blood, followed by a series of wars scattered around the world had fractured the fragile balance the Old Religion had been keeping with the human world. With the rise of not one, but two very powerful dark lord's in the same century, magic was screaming out in defiance, wrathful in it's retribution for the desecration of the world by humankind. Morgana's escape from her prison several months before had come at an auspicious time. He'd foreseen it after the fall of Voldemort and the marking of young Harry Potter, but he had anticipated her taking a bit longer to break down his enchantments. He'd underestimated her yet again.
Lifting a crystal glass to his lips, he took a sip of his aged Firewhiskey as he pondered his nemesis. They'd been bound by Fate and Magic, the darkness to the light, the hatred to the love. She'd turned on him time and time again, and he'd defeat her. He'd trapped her in the Crystal Cave nigh on 1000 years before, hoping never to see her again. But now she was out and had...changed. He'd watched her rage at the murder of the Potter's and vow to protect their son. He watched her shatter his enchantments, and ultimately break the power of the Crystal Cave in her bid for freedom. She wasn't the cold-hearted witch he'd fought in the past, but she wasn't the kind and compassionate woman he had loved long ago either. He'd meddled when he could, helping her on her path, but he was uncertain if he was doing the right thing. Kilgharrah had been less than helpful, the old dragon laughed at his questioning of her fate, telling him that she was still the dark to his light, but then adding that perhaps that is what the world needed. The Old Religion seemed to agree as it pulsed around her and her new ward, caressing them, bathing them in it's presence.
Snorting at the thought of Morgana as a savior like the Great Dragon had intimated, Merlin turned his gaze back to the maps he'd laid out on his desk. Something was coming, something that would challenge the fabric of reality itself, and he knew he'd need to reunite with her before it was too late. There were older and darker things in existence than the two of them, and those beings had started to wake, and turn their gaze to Earth. A shudder went through him, his hair standing on edge as his magic pulsed in response to his fear. He was Emrys, the most powerful warlock to walk the Earth. Morgana was Lady Le Fey, the most powerful witch to walk the Earth. But even if they worked together, he wasn't sure it would be enough. Not even figuring in the prophecy child and his chosen family. Tapping a pen against the detailed depiction of Diagon Alley on the map before him, he traced the lines of the ink with the tip of the pen. Perhaps, perhaps there was still hope, if balance was found, if the wars stopped raging over and over, if history stopped repeating itself.