Author's note: Okay, I'm just 2 reviews away from hitting the 50-review milestone! Wow!
SummerOfFreedom: Actually, I prefer black hair on Harry! Thanks for the encouragement-glad you're okay with the storyline:-)
jeevesandwooster: (author smiles goofily) Thank you so much! I will not leave you 'high and dry', don't you worry…
Elphie73: Hey, don't worry about not reviewin'. I understand. I'm glad at least one person thought the story was believable and I'll do my best to keep it that way. Thanks a lot!
Three people thought I should continue with the tale so this is for them.
Chapter 11: Choices
"Less than two weeks now," said Ron quietly. "In less than two weeks from now, I'll be a married man."
Harry looked at the person he considered a brother and smiled lazily. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to becoming 'Uncle Harry'…"
Ron turned beet red and fell silent looking rather dreamy all the same.
"Harry?" came a voice from the fireplace.
Harry knelt down to speak to Morgan. "Where are you?"
"I'm at the Burrow with Hermione. Harry, listen, I'm sorry I won't be able to come this evening."
"Why?" he asked frowning slightly.
Morgan's eyes turned pleading. "There's something I have to attend to. I hope you understand."
Harry nodded, his green eyes reflecting his support. "Take care and don't worry-everything's going to be all right."
"Yeah…Hi Ron," she added, looking over at the redhead. No response. Morgan's puzzlement crept into her voice. "What's wrong with him?" she asked Harry.
Harry grinned. "Something I said about my becoming a godfather soon," he replied in a loud whisper.
Morgan giggled, her face lighting up in her mirth. "You meanie!"
"That's the only way to stop him from spouting that annoying countdown to his wedding," said Harry solemnly. It felt good to see Morgan laugh even if it was for a silly reason.
"I've got to go now Harry. Be good," she added waggling a finger.
Harry cut her off by brushing his lips against hers. She wasn't expecting it, but responded briefly before pulling away with obvious reluctance.
Harry didn't miss her warm smile as she retracted her head from his fireplace.
"I saw that, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor," said Ron in an uncanny impersonation of Snape.
"Shut up, Weasley!"
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Morgan sat uncomfortably on the cozy armchair. Normally the chair would have her lounging about in a very un-ladylike manner, but today wasn't, it seemed, destined to be 'normal'.
Maria Connelly glanced at Morgan; afraid to say something that might hurt the girl. The silence lay heavily between them, full of anxiety and fear and doubt.
"I'm sorry," said Morgan softly, deciding to break the oppressive stillness.
Mrs. Connelly took a deep breath. "You don't have to be."
"I…" began Morgan, but was interrupted.
"No, Morgan. Listen to me," said Mrs. Connelly earnestly. "You mustn't blame yourself for this. I can't have you wallowing in unjustified guilt, all right? It kills me to see you this way."
"But…"
"Don't you understand?" The gentle blue eyes filled with tears. "I can't lose you as well," said Mrs. Connelly, her voice breaking.
Morgan sat there, feeling ashamed of herself. She had been so selfish, thinking only of her sorrow. She didn't know what to say, but she got up and hugged the older woman who had been and was the only mother she knew.
…………………………
"What are you planning to do now?"
Morgan stared at Mrs. Connelly uncomprehendingly. "Um…what do you mean 'what am I planning to do now'?"
Mrs. Connelly nonchalantly handed the washed plate to Morgan to dry. "You know what I mean."
"No, I don't."
"Well, we both know that your bakery job wasn't going to last for long, Morgan. You were destined for something else."
Morgan went very still. It was quite a while before she replied. "I didn't know I was that bad at baking," she said wryly.
"Actually, you are even better than I am at baking," said Mrs. Connelly slowly. "But, I think it should remain more a hobby in your case, not a profession."
Morgan smiled slightly. "Sheena always said I was wasted in my job."
"And I agree with her. You were always afraid to join the war, Morgan. I think it's high time you conquered that fear."
Morgan's heart began to beat faster. She can't be serious she thought frantically. She listened apprehensively as Mrs. Connelly went on.
"It might seem that I'm asking you to exact revenge for Sheena's death. But it's not so. I know you are a fighter at heart. And you need to do this for your own sake. Your place is by Harry's side. I just know it. I can feel it in my bones."
"I-I can't endanger your, no, my family."
"Think of it this way, my dear. You're going to be protecting us."
Morgan gazed at the cheerful fire, lost in thought for a long time. Yes, she'd never involved herself in anything to do with the war simply because she was a coward and didn't want to lose the only family she had. But now when she pondered over it, she couldn't help but realize that she was just giving her maniacal parents more excuses to make her life miserable. And then, there was Harry…
Morgan sighed slightly before looking straight into her guardian's eyes.
"I've made my choice. I just hope it's the right one."
…………………………………………..
Hermione ran a brush through her hair, which she had now managed to tame from its earlier bushiness to a more manageable set of soft curls. Today she'd got a lot of work done thanks to all that help from Morgan.
Morgan.
Hermione had been rather shocked when Harry had confirmed that Morgan was indeed a Lestrange. Harry hadn't commented further (though Hermione was dying to know the whole story), saying it would be unfair to Morgan if he told them her story.
However Morgan herself hadn't wanted Harry's friends to be left in the dark so, later, when she was in the right frame of mind to do so, they had a long talk about it all.
That had cleared the air quite a bit and Morgan had been relieved that no one had judged her based on her history. And she and Hermione, though far from being the best of friends, were getting along very nicely indeed.
Hermione smiled as she recollected their conversation earlier that day.
"How about the wedding cake?"
Hermione smirked. "Cakes and Bakes are taking care of it."
"I should've guessed," said Morgan, smiling.
They went through the invitation list to make sure no one had been left out. Hermione felt like saying something to Morgan, but couldn't bring herself to do so.
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
"How did you know I wanted to tell you something?" asked a surprised Hermione.
"Well, you keep glancing at me weirdly, then you shake your head ever so slightly and then repeat that process every five minutes…"
"I see," said Hermione then thinking there was no point in hiding things, "I think I'm jealous of you," she said honestly.
Morgan sat in stunned silence before she answered disbelievingly. "Why?"
"You are quite perfect you know-beautiful, athletic, a great cook-everything I'm not…"
"I'm not perfect," said Morgan quietly, "I have an awful temper, I'm impatient, reckless…and have you even thought for a second that I might be slightly jealous of you?"
It was Hermione's turn to be stunned. "Why?"
"You are intelligent, you're Harry's best friend, you are sure of what you want and you stand up for your principles. I know lots of people who would kill to be you," said Morgan simply.
"I think we've just…sort of misunderstood each other completely," said Hermione at last.
"Yeah... Oh, and one more thing, you may not be a good cook or a quidditch player, but you are beautiful. Stop having such a low opinion of yourself."
They grinned at each other and Hermione hugged Morgan impulsively. She really missed having a good girl friend to talk to ever since Ginny had taken up a demanding career.
"Thank you, Morgan."
"Aww, stop it. We'll be weeping over each other, next," drawled Morgan, though she was secretly glad that Hermione had accepted her fully at last.
"Right. So why don't we get back to that list, Finley," said Hermione bossily.
Morgan groaned and grumbled but picked up the list all the same…
Hermione gave her hair one last brush before climbing into bed and falling into a dreamless slumber.
………………………………………………
"I want to fight," said Morgan suddenly the next evening when she and Harry were lazing about on his sofa.
"What?" asked Harry stupidly. They'd been talking about the recent quidditch match between the Cannons and the Tornadoes, so the sudden change in topic threw him off guard.
"I want to fight. In the war. Against Voldemort," stated Morgan patiently.
Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "It's a bit too late to join the Auror Academy, you know."
"I'm not talking of the Auror Academy," scoffed Morgan. "You know better than anyone else, that you don't have to be an auror to fight."
"What exactly are you implying here?"
"I want you to train me."
"Impossible."
"Why?"
Harry got up from the sofa, feeling annoyed. "I just can't train anyone like that. And why the devil do you want to join the war, anyway? You're good at that baking thing, aren't you?"
"I think you know why."
Harry shook his head desperately. "Morgan, war isn't something you go to just because you want to avenge someone. It goes deeper than that. I can't explain. And it's not… pleasant."
"I know. I also know that I'm not going into war just to 'avenge someone'. And you know it too. What's your real reason?" Morgan raised her eyebrow questioningly.
"I can't let you fight because I don't want anything to happen to you," said Harry resignedly.
Morgan felt a hot surge of anger but controlled it with difficulty. "Harry James Potter. THAT is the most chauvinistic thing I've ever heard in my life. Look, if you're going to be busy fighting Snake Face, you won't have time to protect me. Therefore, I will need to protect myself. So, whether you like it or not, you're going to have to train me. And that's that."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose frustratedly. He knew she was telling the truth, but he didn't want to see her hurt. But he could see she would be a useful fighter…
He jumped slightly when he felt Morgan's hand massage the back of his neck gently, but relaxed immediately. "I don't know…" he said helplessly.
"Please?"
"Those eyes can beg Ron to part with his old chessboard," his teasing tone belying the worry he was feeling. "All right," he conceded finally, "I'll test your abilities and we'll see if you are really up to it."
Morgan nodded happily. "Fine. You won't regret this, I promise."
"We'll see."
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A.N: Short and slightly pointless chapter, but we authors like to drag things out a bit, I guess (wink).
Next chapter: The Wedding (Ah, finally. I might split it into parts like I did 'The Date'. I'll have to see…"
Please review. I wanna see that 50 against 'reviews'…
Oh, and by the way, I'm trying to finish this story by the time HP & HBP comes out. So I'll have to update faster than this!