The stone gargoyle towered above her, ugly, sharp-toothed face leering down. She raised an eyebrow at it. "Well?" she said.
The gargoyle moved, shuffling out of the way with a huff, slowly and lazily revealing the stairs hidden behind him. Gone was the fearsome face, replaced with an annoyed twist of the mouth.
Morgan would bet money that it was trying to scare her away just so it wouldn't have to move.
Stepping past, she walked up a set of spiralling stairs, heading upwards. A large brown door stood at the top, carved with intricate designs, of Hogwarts, trees and many other things. It was rather interesting, but she hadn't the time.
Knocking on the door, she waited. Seeing that there was no response, she shrugged and opened the door. The gargoyle let her up here, if Dumbledore had a problem he could take it up with it.
The Headmaster's office was… interesting. Towards the back and near a desk was a perch, sitting next to a set of stairs and upon which sat Fawkes, flaming plumage immediately catching her eye.
His beady black eyes were fixed upon her, narrowed slightly. Really, such a suspicious bird. She was just an innocent eleven year-old, pure and naive to the ways of the world. What had she done to be looked at so?
Cabinets lined the walls, the books within shielded from the outside world by thin panes of glass. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, what seemed like a solar system replica orbiting the central bulb.
In one cabinet she could see the tell-tale glow of the pensieve, though she ignored it for now.
Seeing that Dumbledore still wasn't here, she shrugged, opening up one of the cabinets and grabbing a book within. Seeing all these books out on display like this, it would just be a shame to not have a look.
The thick tome… was worthless. She snorted, eyeing it with amusement. Promising the secrets to great power, it seemed to spend its time meandering through the author's life… in the 1500's.
"I must confess" came Dumbledore's voice from the stairs near Fawkes. "I had never thought anyone would ever actually read any of those books."
He looked… Hmm, she had to admit, he had his own regal quality to him. His robes were a deep blue, tiny stars of light shining from points. With the thick white beard and eyebrows, he cut a striking figure and she could see why some would compare him to Merlin.
But she wasn't feeling impressed. Instead, all she could feel was an upswing of disgust.
She kept the disgust to herself. "Trying to look impressive?" she asked. And there was a certain mocking hidden in her tone, a subtle sneer that she just couldn't control. Even her words were a jab, one she just couldn't stop herself from speaking.
She was in front of what she viewed as the world's greatest failure, she could hardly be blamed for it. Perhaps it would be better to pretend to be an ordinary, naive eleven year-old meeting a famous figure, perhaps she was being a fool once again, but she found she didn't care.
"But of course!" he cheerfully exclaimed, blue eyes twinkling faintly as he walked down the stairs. "You know, every Christmas people always buy me more books, I felt they could at least be put to good use. Why, being a great wizard is 99% looking impressive, my girl."
Being called 'my girl' by him of all people was not making her any happier.
He sat upon the chair behind his desk, taking out his wand and twirling it. With nary a sound, a chair popped into existence opposite. "Come, Miss Fay, take a seat."
Now that she was in a room with him, she was slightly surprised at the amount of anger bubbling just beneath the surface. The shock of him being old had worn off and the hate was seeping into her mind. For a moment, she wanted to throw the chair at him, wanted to hurl acid-laced abuse until he was a broken shell, to destroy whatever remained of the man through her words alone.
She was standing before the man that could have -should have - found a way to stop her world from dying; words couldn't describe how much she wanted to tear him down.
But she didn't. She had expected herself to feel angry, and she was an adult, not some petulant child. So she did as he asked, sitting in the surprisingly comfortable chair.
"Lemon drop?" he asked, pulling a bowl filled with the yellow sweets from… Somewhere.
She stared at the sweets blankly. "I prefer cherry" she said.
"Ah" he said, as though confirming some fundamental truth. For a moment, he looked at her, blue eyes void of their twinkling, face grave. "I see that you and I shall not get along", sounding for all the world as though she'd just murdered his hopes and dreams.
This- this fucker! He was just playing around! He sat before what might very well be the last free remnant of a world he watched burn and he was-
Before her, well, rather unreasonable anger at an innocent, joking comment, could cause her to do anything, Fawkes cut in. His beak opened and out came the one of the worst things she'd ever heard.
But that was ignored, for the sudden, huge headache scything its way through her mind was taking her attention. With a hiss, one hand blindly clutched at her forehead while the other grabbed her wand, the cool wood reassuring beneath her twitching palm. Before she could do anything, however, the Phoenix's blasted song stopped, the future patient of St Mungo's Janus Thickley Ward staring down at her with his beady eyes from atop Dumbledore's shoulders.
Unkillable? Such arrogance. One did not have to be killed to effectively be dead.
Any humor was gone from Dumbledore's face as he met her burning eyes. "I had hoped…"
Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh? Talk to a certain Professor, did you? Did she tell you all about the big, scary eleven year-old?" Her magic was a storm, the waves of her power crashing through her body. Flakes of wood dried up, curling and falling from her chair as the desk before her began cracking, heatwaves flowing from her body.
And now the floodgates were opened.
"Indeed. But I had not expected you to be so far gone. You are going down a path that shall bring you nothing but loneliness and misery."
A nasty smile crossed her face. "Oh, I don't know. Becoming the next Albus Dumbledore doesn't sound so bad."
A sudden, sharp jab, one that she could see had hit home, and that made ruining any relationship with him worth it. For a moment his eyes shone fiercely, but it was gone as soon as it came. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped. "What did you come here for, Miss Fay? I do not believe you came here just to get into a fight."
The sudden change from where she had expected the conversation to go caught her off guard, leaving her blinking at him. "Really? That's it?" Her magic, previously roiling, was quickly brought under control as she was knocked off-center.
He raised an eyebrow at her, some faint humour returning to his face. "Would you prefer me to go on a long lecture that both of us know will accomplish nothing? You have already made your lack of respect for me apparent, your willful entering and subsequent search has made that quite clear."
He- he knew what she was, knew how dark she was, and… This was it? He didn't even try, he just… Slumped and gave up. She was expecting, well, more. He really was completely useless.
Good Lord but this man disgusted her. She found herself thinking that she would have respected him more if he killed her here and now, as he should have done when he first met Riddle. But no, the man was too much a coward to ever do something like that.
She sneered at him. "I have been told I require your permission to send books out of the castle. If you could quickly give me permission, we can both go about our separate ways."
"Ah, I see. Rarely allowed, but I have done it before. But what makes you so sure I will give it?"
Morgan smiled, a sweet thing full of hidden poison. "I promised a girl that I would gain her access to the library."
He frowned, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "I hardly think tha-"
"Her name is Penelope Clearwater."
His hand froze. The expression on his face, the pain caused by another of his failures… Such a delight, it would keep her warm in winter.
And after that, there wasn't much more to say. He quickly wrote her a note giving her permission before dismissing her, staring down at his hands sadly.
She found his sadness only made her feel better.
But not enough to stop her from sending a certain letter.
It was as she was walking away from the owlery that she finally started to regret how she had acted. It was… shameful, for her to let her anger get the better of her so easily. If only knowing she had to get a better handle on her emotions actually helped her do so. Maybe Occlumency would help with that...
She'd gone in there hoping to dance around the issue of whatever McGonagall might have said to him, to just get a feel for him, not… this. He was just so useless…
If he was sitting before a young Tom Riddle once again, what would he do? Ha, as though she needed to ask.
He would do nothing, as he had just done with her, because he was a useless fuck tha-
She bit her lip, clenching her fist tightly. Pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath, squashing the anger back down. Her head was still throbbing from that thing's song, and the pain only served to make it that much more difficult for her to suppress her anger.
Phoenix song. She'd forgotten they had such an ability; she would have to research the specific details later.
Her lips curved up slightly as she thought about the letter, the satisfaction helping with her anger. It would take a long time, years even, but the Headmaster would fall, as with all the rest.
Her taps upon the barrel to the Hufflepuff common room were probably harder than needed, entering the room filled with talkative students, sitting around and playing games or reading etc.
On the other side of the room she saw a flash of pink hair, the girl it belonged to… Flirting? It looked like she was flirting, anyway, if the flush on the boys face she was sat next to was any indication.
She cursed her younger body. For her to get laid would require either substantial effort or apparating back to Maria, which she didn't want to do yet. Must be rather nice being a metamorph.
She ignored Tonks, only slightly resentful. Another plan, another thing that she needed to do, but that could wait. For now, she just wished to relax in bed and sleep away this headache and anger.
Throwing open the door to her dorm, she jumped onto her bed, ignoring her dorm-mates.
If only they would do the same, but really, that would just be asking too much, wouldn't it?
"Morgan! Hey, Morgan! Where've you been?! You totally need to tell us how you did that in Charms!"
Morgan let out an almost inaudible moan into her pillow, before turning and meeting Hannah's eyes. She looked more excited than usual, if that was possible, hands placed on the end of Morgan's bed, body practically vibrating.
"I was just having a chat with the Headmast-"
"You mean Dumbledore! Really? What's he like? What did you talk about? Come on, tell us!"
This brat… Honestly, what did she do to deserve this?
Thankfully, for Hannah, Susan came up, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her back slightly. "What she means" she started, casting a warning glance at Hannah, "Is that we were worried about you. A couple of the Slytherin's weren't looking too happy after that Charms class."
Hmm, she hadn't really been paying much attention. "Really?"
Susan nodded. "I overheard them... Well, my aunt says not to say bad words, so I wont repeat it, but they weren't happy about being outdone by a half-blood. We were worried" she said, shooting Hannah a glare.
Half-blood? Well, she had come to Hogwarts wearing clothing that far outstripped what an orphan would be able to buy... Perhaps that was why Su hadn't been bullied, it wasn't like they advertised their blood status.
"Hey! I told you she'd be fine, and she is! Morgan could totally take those Slytherins! Now, about Dumbledo-"
"Hannah!"
"But, Susan..." Hannah whined.
Morgan sighed. "Honestly, if you want to know so badly, just go talk to him. He won't bite. Jesus, you're worse than everyone that's too scared to just talk to Potter."
Hannah looked at her with wide eyes, lips opening to no doubt further question her, when she was wrenched away, falling to her butt behind Susan.
Who had taken Hannah's place, looking at Morgan in a way that would make her fear for her chastity, if Susan were older.
Or, well, if she had any.
"Have you talked to him?! What is he like? What did he say?" she asked, a fervour to her bright blue eyes, all the earlier decorum forgotten.
Ah, of course Susan was a fan girl. And, by the way Leanne had creeped next to the side of her bed, she was living with two of them.
She blamed Harry for this. It would be such a shame if rumours started to spread about his, ah, preferences. The heartbroken look on Susan's face just made it better.
Morgan never claimed she wasn't petty.
And~ Dumbledore doesn't really care, for a number of reasons.
Thanks again to everyone that likes the story. Also, I've seen this a couple times now, but just to clear it up, Morgan's birthday is October 31st, Su's is October 12th. So the prophecy doesn't apply to her, she'd need to be born at the end of July for that.
