Dedication: For jeevesandwooster, who doesn't much care for H/Hr fics! And for Alex-a peace offering from tardy ol' me. I don't know how many people read this fic, but I know you two do…so this is for you!

Author's note: Well…after a horrible and long case of writer's block, I've decided, with renewed determination, to finish this fic. You will forgive me if this chapter ain't very good…

Chapter 13: Treachery

"Morgan," called Harry softly, shaking the cocoon of blankets that indicated its human occupant by means of the tangle of red hair at one end. "Morgan, get up. We leave in half an hour."

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed at what was visible of the person sleeping in it. A week had passed since Ron and Hermione's wedding, and this daily waking of his girlfriend and flat-mate was becoming a ritual. He knew what he had to do next. He grinned, lifted the blankets a little and tickled the soles of the slumbering redhead's feet.

Morgan stirred, an inarticulate noise in her throat representing her protest at being awoken early.

Harry's grin widened and one swift movement later, the blankets lay on the floor and Morgan lay shivering slightly on the bed, awake and glaring at her human alarm clock.

"I'm up, I'm up. Do you have to wake me up so meanly?" she grumbled, sitting up reluctantly.

"I'm afraid so. Or you'll never get up. And Kay wants us in at 6 today. Some new trainees, I think."

Morgan groaned. "What's new?" Then she flopped back onto the bed and lay there, frowning at the ceiling. "I'm not going today. I want to sleep."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled at him-a cheeky smile tinged with some grogginess.

"You say that everyday," said Harry, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Be at the dining table in ten minutes." It was halfway between an order and a request, and with that he went out of the room.

Morgan stared after him for a while before getting out of bed at last, muttering darkly to herself. "Yeah…yeah…insane, I tell you! Five thirty in the morning…! WHAT?" For Harry had just called out to her.

"Ten minutes, Morgan!"

Morgan scowled and began brushing her teeth. "O eh wha?" she said indistinctly, which translated to "Or else what?"

…………………………………

Harry looked up as Morgan came in and slumped into the chair opposite his. "Good morning, Grumpy," he said teasingly.

Morgan stuck her tongue out at him childishly but grasped the coffee mug that was handed to her gratefully. She sipped at it, savouring the aroma and sighed thankfully. Harry's coffee was excellent as usual. A comfortable silence reigned for a while as Harry knew it was pointless to converse with Morgan till she had been fortified with her dose of caffeine.

"Ah…great coffee, Harry. Thanks!"

"Your welcome. Here, eat." He pushed a plate of buttered toast towards her.

"At dawn my appetite isn't exactly at its best," said Morgan looking at Harry innocently. "I don't want to eat."

"One slice, " wheedled Harry, knowing what was coming.

"No."

"Morgan…"

"No."

"Okay, why won't you eat?"

"I told you," said Morgan sweetly, "I don't feel hungry this early in the morning."

Harry tried not to laugh. "What's the real reason?" he asked blandly.

Morgan pouted. "Where's my morning kiss?"

Harry laughed this time. She was absolutely adorable. "Well, that's easily remedied," he said, getting up and moving towards her, eyes glinting mischievously.

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"What time did you go to sleep last night?" asked Morgan casually, raking a hand through her hair to give it some semblance of order, owing to the fact that the events of the last five minutes had lent to its present mussed state.

Harry, slightly befuddled thanks to the same events, replied without thinking. "Three a.m. roundabouts."

Morgan stopped trying to set her hair right and quickly pulled it into a high ponytail. "And you got up at five, I suppose," she said in the same casual tone.

Harry suddenly realized, too late, that he should have kept his mouth shut. Morgan wouldn't let him off very easily.

"Harry, you haven't been sleeping at all, this past week. Two hours? No wonder, you're looking so tired all the time." Morgan gazed at Harry concernedly, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Morgan, we'll talk about this later, shall we? We have to be at the Arena in two minutes' time." Harry gathered his cloak and prepared to apparate, but found he couldn't. "Morgan, take the anti-apparition jinx off me," he said with forced calm.

Morgan smiled sweetly, but her voice was cold. "Threatening are we? I don't care if we're late. To hell with the new recruits." Her tone softened when she saw Harry's expressionless face. "I'm worried about you. You're not sleeping. Is this about Voldemort? Yeah, I know he's preparing for attack. There's impending doom and all that. You don't have to kill yourself worrying. You're not alone in this…"

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "You don't understand. This is not…you're not…aarghh!" He glared at her, savagely satisfied at the hurt in her eyes. She lowered her wand and the two apparated without another word.

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"No, Paula. You're wand movement is still flawed. Again!" Morgan patiently repeated the movement for the counter curse while the trainee looked on, a little nervously before trying it out herself.

"Better. Much better. Practice, all right. That will be all for today then. Good luck!" Morgan went over to where Harry had just finished with his new charge. He nodded to her, indicating that he was ready for their daily sparring practice.

Morgan had shown no signs of their having had a disagreement when she came into the Arena with Harry. But Harry knew that today's sparring practice was going to probably be the longest session he'd ever had…

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"Harry's been a little slow of late," commented Armand West to Neville Longbottom, as the two watched Harry and Morgan duel.

"Doesn't matter. He still knows what Morgan's next move will be," answered Neville absently. He was watching Morgan, who, according to him, seemed to be giving vent to her frustration rather than concentrating on her technique as she usually did.

"Must be something to have Mingling auras, huh?" said Armand still gawking at the speed of the two duelers.

"Hmmm."

As they were watching, Morgan muttered some curse that hit Harry, who was thrown backward and lay on the floor, unable to breathe. Morgan stood looking at him shocked, but recovered quickly to lift the spell off him before running to his side.

"Are you all right?" she asked frantically.

Harry sat up slowly with her help and looked strangely at Morgan. "What in the bloody name of Merlin was that?"

Morgan expression reflected genuine puzzlement and some fear. "I have no clue. Honestly, Harry, I was just…so…angry. I don't know. That curse came from nowhere. I could've…" She was breathing very fast, uncertainty and now open fear in her eyes.

"Can you remember it?" asked Harry a little harshly.

Morgan closed her eyes, trying to calm herself by breathing deeply. She opened her eyes, the grey depths now glistening with tears. "No…"

Harry merely looked thoughtful while Morgan bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. "Harry, I'm sorry," she said shakily.

Harry looked at her absently. "Don't worry about it." He patted her shoulder, still absently, got up and walked out of the arena, wondering why he didn't read that curse via the connection that bonded him and Morgan.

……………………………………………………………

Armand looked at Neville uneasily. "That was dark magic, that was," he stated finally. "It all fits, doesn't it? Harry not being able to read the curse, Morgan's original black aura…" he trailed off because Neville didn't seem to be listening.

Neville had been listening, as a matter of fact, but chose not to comment. For now, he would just wait and watch this witch…as well as Harry's back of course.

……………………………………………………………..

The sun set in its usual splendid fashion and while here and there a romantic might have gazed at the scene it created, the sight went quite unnoticed by the practical section of the population.

Neville Longbottom was one such pragmatic. He had no time to waste on sunsets. He'd watched Morgan quite closely the whole day. The task had been made easier by the fact that Harry, after a quick scan that Kay forced him to undergo, disappeared to god-knows-where for the rest of the day, resulting in Neville taking his place in training recruits with Morgan. And afterward, Kay had given them both a piece of research to do- the two spent the whole afternoon thinking of a way to stop dementors from breeding at such an alarming rate. Which, Neville thought, had been a good way of keeping an eye on Morgan without arousing her suspicion. And now, she had just left, saying she had to go to that bakery she'd worked in earlier. After the morning's incident, she didn't seem very concerned that she might have just managed to finish off her boyfriend. Neville was doggedly determined to prevent her from inflicting harm on anyone. Harry, least of all. Yet, the situation was a tricky one, especially since Morgan had won everyone's trust. Everyone except himself, thought Neville grimly. He wasn't going to trust any Lestrange…

……………………………………………………………..

At Cakes and Bakes, the threat of Voldemort seemed distant and even laughable. The warm interiors, the hustle and bustle- all made one feel comfortable and alive. I'm home, thought Morgan, with a sigh of relief. The day hadn't been the best of days and she was glad to get to the bakery and work away all her troubles in the baking.

"Morgan, dear, come and give Naina a hand with the cookies," called Maria Connelly to the slender redhead whom she considered a daughter.

Hastily pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, Morgan went forward to help, completely unaware of what the near future held for her.

……………………………………………………………………

Neville was a little disappointed. She hadn't been lying after all. She was in the bakery, talking and laughing with the dark-haired woman next to her, attending to the customers and engaging in frequent light banter with the lady whom he knew to be Maria Connelly.

Maybe I was mistaken, he thought, perplexedly. He gazed speculatively at his suspect one last time before turning to go. It doesn't mean I'm going to stop keeping an eye on her. Neville was so intent on his thoughts he'd let his guard down, something he'd been trained not to do but still did. Turning into another alley, he realized he was at a dead end and hit by a sudden disorientation, he didn't have a clue as to where he was.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? Weren't you warned that walking alone after dark in this street is dangerous business?"

Neville turned around slowly with a sinking feeling…

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Harry shut the book he was reading, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What he'd learnt had been very interesting and disturbing at the same time. The library was a peaceful place, but Harry was feeling far from peaceful at that moment.

And then there was Morgan. It all started and ended with her. He had absolutely no idea as to what to do.

He loved her.

Didn't he?

Harry frowned and took off his glasses, suddenly weary. He wasn't sure, but he could feel the something that had slowly crept between them. Something that prevented them from getting any closer.

Something that threatened to break what they had.

And that scared him more than anything else.

……………………………………………………………………………………

He was cornered. And by a dozen Death Eaters no less. How could he have been so careless? He wasn't afraid, only annoyed that he'd walked straight into their hands. Surreptitiously he set off a distress signal, which would hopefully alert all his colleagues to his predicament.

"What's the matter, Longbottom? Kneazle got your tongue?" taunted a voice from the rear, a voice he hadn't heard.

"Poor Longbottom, Potter's dear sidekick, second only to Weasel and the mudblood Weasel," said a second voice from his left, a voice he knew only too well. Malfoy.

Amidst the laughter that followed a third voice spoke that made an involuntary go up his spine. "Longbottom, you disappoint me. We all thought you were auror material. But it seems to me that you're as pathetic as your poor brainless parents…" Malice and evil intent dripped from every word. He knew this person too and clenched his fists to stop himself from flinging himself at her and wringing her neck. Which, would, given the present state of affairs, be a very foolish thing to do.

The hooting and unpleasant laughter stopped and the air seemed to become slightly colder.

"He is a brainless idiot after all. Look at him, standing like a poor dumb animal, cowering against the wall…Avada Kedavra…"

Neville dodged the flash of green light just in time and tried to apparate but couldn't. He let off a couple of well placed jinxes, stunning two death eaters, but was soon caught in the middle of a ring of the remaining death eaters.

Ten on one, thought Neville despairingly. Where the hell is the back up force? Then looking all around him and seeing no escape, he prepared to die fighting…

"Crucio!"

It had begun. In the many curses that followed, Neville lost track of time, trying to give back as good as he got, fighting valiantly.

A non-verbal curse hit him out of the blue straight in the chest causing him to bleed horribly. He was already weak and had lost the use of his wand arm because of a particularly nasty curse.

He was going to die…

"Ashasyeth vabhasyan," a new cold voice came from the other end of the alley, filling the place with a golden light that gathered around Neville, protecting him from further harm.

Bellatrix Lestrange turned around enraged at the intrusion. The newcomer wasted no time in halving the number of death eaters standing around their victim.

"I suggest you leave at once, before I make you all pay dearly for what you've done," said Morgan, her eyes afire, her face set and cold.

Bellatrix laughed mockingly at the girl. "You are going to make me pay for doing the world a great favour by getting rid of fools like Longbottom?"

"Your theatrics fail to impress me…mother," came the sarcastic reply, knowing it would infuriate that woman.

"Don't forget I killed your brainless friend you blood traitor. Filth like the Connellys should be wiped out from the wizarding world."

But Morgan was something else that night. Her mind was clear and unafraid and she was not going to succumb to Bellatrix's mind games. After that she couldn't remember what happened, except that she fought dark magic with dark magic, astonishing the enemy with her mastery of dark magic-curses and jinxes, she knew them all as if they were a part of her. She fought by instinct and not by what she had been trained to do.

But she was not superhuman and received a fair share of cuts and curses, and she was sure a rib or two was broken and was finding it increasingly hard to breath. She was saved by the arrival of Harry and a group of aurors from the Ministry. The minute they came in, the death eaters vanished and Morgan, injured and exhausted, collapsed and slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

…………………………………………………………………………….

"She said she'd received a distress signal or something and that she had to leave immediately," said Maria Connelly tearfully.

Harry patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "She'll be all right," he said simply. Then he turned away, not mentioning to that Morgan had been the only one to receive the signal. Neville was alive, but in a coma, unable to tell anyone anything. Morgan was in better shape, but still unconscious. The aurors at the Ministry had detected high levels of dark activity in that area and had come to investigate and he had come with them. When they sourced the dark magic, most of it led to Morgan Finley.

Harry knew that she'd fought for Neville, but after the Ministry report, he suddenly knew what was bothering him.

Doubt.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Kay McBride was furious. She immediately called for a meeting, which everyone had to compulsorily attend. Except a couple of uncontactable honeymooners and a couple of comatose individuals, of course.

"What in the name of Merlin happened?" she demanded.

Harry filled her in on the facts.

"So, Morgan alone received Neville's signal?" asked the Commander skeptically. "What about the others? No one?"

Harry shook his head slowly.

Armand West spoke up. "Ministry reports are saying…"

"I know what the Ministry reports are saying, Armand, and I'm afraid it doesn't look to good…"

"For whom? Morgan?" asked Harry angrily.

"Harry," said the Commander seriously, "You cannot deny that you didn't see her fighting the death eaters. For all you know, it was a set-up and she was hand-in-glove with them. No, listen to me. If she'd fought them, why didn't she use any of the magic you've been training with?"

Harry was overwhelmed by a confused mess of feelings. Anger, hurt, doubt, sadness, disbelief, trust, love…

"No, it can't be true. What you're saying doesn't make sense…"

"Why?"

"Why did she target Neville then? Why not me? It makes no sense…"

Armand spoke again. "She did target you, Harry. In the morning training session remember. And she's not stupid. Neville didn't trust her and was keeping an eye on her. She probably knew that and wanted to…" he trailed off, unable to bear the glare Harry was directing his way.

"What? Kill him? Get rid of him? It's not…she's not…" whispered Harry uncertainly, thinking of the morning's incident.

"Harry I'm sorry, but I have to suspend her till Neville comes around and can give us his side of the story," said Commander McBride sadly. "She betrayed us…" she added more to herself than anyone else, but Harry heard her all the same.

Pushing his chair back, he got up and walked out of the room, no expression in his brilliant green eyes, no emotion crossing his face.

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Author's note: I originally had Ron and Hermione on heir honeymoon in this chapter, but the whole thing didn't gel well, so I scrapped it. So, it has begun. And Morgan, what will happen to her and what does Harry think? Will Neville live to tell his tale?

Next chapter is cheerfully titled: Heartbreak.

This chapter was really hard for me to write, and I'm not satisfied, but at this crazy hour in the morning, I'm not complaining. Maybe I'll make some changes later if I have the energy to do so.

Whoever reads this story, please review. And no flames this time round, please. Normally I wouldn't mind, but now I'm PMSing like crazy and am liable to burst into tears if I read anything negative about my story…:-(