Chapter Three
Forgotten
"What do you make of these?" Asked Minister Shacklebolt, after Draco had walked around the runes drawn on the stone chamber in front of the Veil, it was impressive. Even after nearly two weeks since Black had returned the magic in this room had yet to dispel and he was guessing the reason for that was the two runes' closest to the Veil had been drawn in blood. While, he wasn't an expert in Blood Magic, his father had taught him what he knew, and his uncles had taught him later what they knew of the magic that was feared more than Dark Magic. Draco was sure that was the only reason both he and Blaise had been chosen to be the Auror's to hunt down who'd messed with magic that should have been left alone.
"The runes are old, want to say Germanic. Might not have worked if she hadn't drawn these one's in blood." Spoke Blaise in his usual bored tone, though Draco could see the interest in his light brown eyes, when he knelt next to the dried blood.
"This witch welds a great deal of power and knowledge, but from what I've learned there's always a side effect to this sort of magic" Draco added knowing that it might be a matter of time before those side effects began to manifest.
"I doubt there will be any Draco. These runes drawn in chalk were written with great care and no sense of malicious intent. The candles are also placed in position with the elements. This ritual included white magic." Walking to one of the candles Blaise had mentioned he noticed the color was a light green with bits of leaves in the wax, probably made it herself. This witch had left nothing to chance, and how she'd gotten everything into this chamber without being seen was impressive. Minister Shacklebolt had upped the security in this area after he won his office not wanting anything to happen like the battle that had taken place in this very room.
"So, what you're saying is this witch brought them back with a mixture of all magic?" He asked in that deep baritone voice that struck such deep loyalty in those who'd chosen him. His loyalty had taken longer than most, but he'd learned in his position as an Auror that Kingsley Shacklebolt was a good man and was someone who deserved it.
"She incorporated enough white magic to balance out her use of darker magic." Blaise mumbled, his hand hovering over the dried rusty blood that was showing signs of flaking off the stone floor. Despite, the heavy feel of magic clinging to the air around them, he could smell hints of a scent that didn't belong in this dank chamber. Apricot? Maybe oranges? He'd never been good with women's perfume.
"Meaning if there are side effects Minister it'll be awhile before it shows. We won't be able to find her that way." Rubbing a hand across his jaw, Draco couldn't help but admire the witch who appeared to have thought of everything. Though it might be unwise to speak of his admiration out loud, Minister Shacklebolt appeared frustrated at their observations.
"I'll take your and Mr. Zabini's input in this matter into consideration. Get one last look of this and then send Mr. Walker an owl to let him know that he can clean this up." With his steps echoing in the quiet of the chamber, Minister Shacklebolt walked out of the Death Chamber in a swish of his robes.
"Got an idea how to track this witch?" Asked Draco in the silence, when Blaise stood up from his kneeling position to roll his shoulders and fix his pale grey suit jacket so that it wasn't wrinkled. His longtime friend was dressed immaculately for the Memorable Ball that was being held at Hogwarts later that night.
"No, she was careful and even with the lingering magic in this room it wouldn't be of use." Drawled Blaise, his brown-gold eyes memorizing the way the runes were drawn, the placement of the candles and the droplets of blood that led away from where she'd done the ritual and towards the hidden door Mr. Walker had assured the Minister that only longtime employees could use.
"You think the blood trail is still there?" Draco asked knowing that the answer was no. Shacklebolt had shut down this room, but to keep boundless rumors from spreading, he'd had to allow everyone else to keep working. The blood had probably been cleaned from the floors, hiding the way she'd gotten out. If she'd done it with confidence or had hesitated at certain parts of the maze-like layout that was the Department of Mysteries.
"No, it's long gone by now. Shacklebolt should have brought us in on this sooner." Rubbing a hand against his unshaved jaw, Draco moved to the door no longer needing to memorize the room, the men and women who worked in the Department of Mysteries watched him beneath their masks, making his skin start to sweat at the memory of a similar situation in his childhood. Except, they weren't Unspeakable masks that were a pure white that glowed in the dim lighting of the darkly tiled corridor. They were Death Eater masks with merciless stares looking at him from the eye sockets of their silver masks.
"Did you receive a card from Madame Adkin's?" Slowing his stride to allow Blaise to catch up with him, Draco glanced at his friend to find him staring absently at the Unspeakable's they passed. However, his question recalled the small card he'd received earlier that morning from the woman in question. Keeping his expression bland, when all he wanted to do was curl his lips in disgust at the thought of the older woman and her establishment. Her flower's as she called them, had made it plainly obvious that they wanted nothing to do with him, even after he'd gone out of his way to treat them with respect. When he'd gone to Madame Adkin's to ask why he was paying an excessive amount of money for a membership to her establishment if her girls weren't willing to see to his needs, she'd simply told him that there must have been a mistake. He doubted there had been any sort of mistake.
"I did. Something about hiring a new girl and that she'd be at the Memorial Ball. If I like her, I'm supposed to owl Madame Adkin's" He growled under his breath as they finally exited the turning corridors of the Department of Mysteries and into the much better lit corridor of the rest of the Ministry.
"Got the same card. It sounds as if she's trying to appease some of her client's" Arching an eyebrow at Blaise's words, Draco wondered what one of Madame Adkin's girls had done to make her want to appease Blaise. His patience was what had kept them friends all these years and made them able to be work partners. Blaise balanced out Draco's more combustive personality.
"I'll admit I'm curious, but I doubt I'll be extending my membership." Pausing in front of the lift, he crossed his arms and mentally went through the list of things he had to do before the Memorable Ball. Pick up my suit, flowers, all in time to rush home and get ready. Dammit he hated this masquerade of loss the most.
"Ever heard of Henry Bloodburn's illegitimate daughter?" Asked Blaise quietly when the lift pulled up and stopped in front of them with an empty compartment. Seemed everyone was getting off early in time to get ready for the event that had become a tradition since the first time that the Ministry and Headmaster of Hogwarts had come together to throw this party to ease the sense of loss that had slowly trickled into the Ministry community after the war.
"Nope, can't say that I have." Draco replied, mildly confused by the change in topic, but judging from Blaise's brown-gold eyes he'd just gotten that curious glint in his eyes that reminded him of their school days. It was never good when he got that look.
…
Hogwarts is where you discover who you are and tests what you know of the world. I have a feeling baby sister you'll grow into someone not even father will be able to ignore. Walking slower down the path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, Morgana could hear the echo of her brother's younger self smiling down at her, his expression holding such pride as she held her Hogwarts letter to her chest. She'd been excited and so proud when she'd received her letter, considering her bursts of uncontrollable magic had been unstable and destructive. Her father's wife, Serena, would always tell her after those burst's that she'd never be welcome to Hogwarts, not with her bloodline. It wasn't until she'd held the dry, crisp parchment in her hand that she hadn't believed her. Dane's words had carried her thru the first rough months of her first year and by the second she'd come to the realization that she preferred being alone.
"Hurry, we're late." Blinking past the memory, Morgana caught sight of Hermione Granger, holding the hem of her maroon gown in one hand and Harry Potter's hand in the other, rushing past her with the two wizards she'd brought back close behind, with former professor Remus Lupin bringing up the rear.
"You do realize it's your fault that we're late?" Questioned one of the wizard's when they passed by her, however, it was the glance of amusement and pure joy on Harry Potter's face that had her heart skip a beat. She'd done that, and yet her steps grew slower still, almost as if she had heavy weights attached to her legs with each step that brought her closer to the large stone castle grounds. Watching them, Morgana could feel that naïve little girl who'd never had a friend yearn to experience that same feeling. Except, the woman she was now knew what would happen if she'd lost that sort of connection with another person, she'd finish what she'd botched seven years ago.
Ravenclaw? My dear, you have no idea how happy I am to hear this, for you are far more intelligent than either I or your mother. You, Morgana will not make the same mistakes we did. In the fading sunlight, Morgana could swear that she could feel the ghost of her grandfather's finger's cupping her right cheek, and the sheer relief that filled his gaunt face. Pausing in front of the large iron gates that were open to allow the small trickle of people walking along the path with her to enter Hogwarts grounds, for the Memorial Ball. A gust of wind sent strands of her hair flying out of the loose ponytail she'd pulled the heavy mass in, before leaving the house unwilling to waste time to put it in some difficult style for this event. She was only here to be seen by those Mrs. Adkin's had contacted and then she was going to leave.
You taste so good. So tight. Shuddering, Morgana felt her stomach churn, while the taste of bile filled her mouth at the husky male voice that'd, she'd spent so much time burying in her mind escaped. Clenching her fingers into fists, unconsciously taking a step away, Morgana watched an older couple walk past her. Their curious look had her glancing down at the dirt path, her black heels digging into the soft ground, while the wind sent the hem of her midnight blue dress dancing around her bare legs. Even with the hint of winter's first chill filling the air around her, Morgana felt as if she was standing directly under the sun's burning rays. You want this….me inside you.
"Hey, are you okay?" Jumping at the voice breaking through the hated voice in her head, Morgana had to place a hand against her crimson painted lips to keep from vomiting on the grass in front of her. Blinking past the burning tears that she'd never let fall, never here, she'd shed too many tears in this place. Swallowing the disgusting taste of bile, Morgana turned to stare into familiar soft brown eyes, from a face filled with compassion.
"I must have caught a stomach bug." Morgana mumbled past the tight constriction of her throat, pasting on a fake smile that left her wondering when she'd stopped smiling for real. It couldn't have been that long ago, right?
"Do you need some help getting inside?" Asked a woman's voice behind her, it took everything in Morgana not to jump, or reach for her wand to curse, the dreamlike tone she recognized as belonging to her former housemate, Luna Lovegood.
"Please go on inside. I'm alright." Dropping the charm to keep the husky quality of her voice hidden from those she'd chosen to protect from her deepest secret, Morgana noticed Neville Longbottom's lack of a reaction. She'd once had a client describe her voice as sinful enough to cause any man to get a hard on. Apparently, he'd been wrong.
"If you're sure? There should be punch in the Great Hall to help what ails you." Smiled Luna, her wistful blue eyes turning away from her, to place a hand on Neville's arm.
"Come Neville or we'll be late for the speech." Giving her one last assisting look, Neville allowed his wife to lead him down the path up towards the castle, her pale blonde hair twirling in the wind around her, along with the light grey dress with its colorful butterflies flapping their wings along the long skirt. Her housemate had always been wise, if a bit strange. Taking a deep breath, Morgana took a step forward and then another one, but instead of heading up the winding hill towards the stone steps that would lead to the crystal coffin that belonged to Albus Dumbledore and the Obsidian stone that held the names of student's, teacher's and those who'd been in the mysterious Order of the Phoenix carved on the headstone, she moved further down the grounds Reaching to take her shoes off when it got too hard to walk in heels, the grass soft with dew from the previous night's autumn storm, Morgana tried not to think about where she was going. Uncaring about the hem of her dress getting muddy, her breath only settled into a steady rhythm when the ice water closed over her bare feet. Tilting her head back, Morgana stared up at the colorful sky, while the wind picked up pulling at the loose strands of her hair. With the sun setting, the sky was ablaze in red, orange and a little pink around the edges of the horizon. Regret for coming to this place that haunted her dreams and sometimes her waking hours constricted inside her chest, however, if she had refused to come to this event Mrs. Adkin wouldn't be considering her. Taking a deep breath, the chill air helped to clear the tension in her chest and the taste of bile from her mouth. Dropping the hem of her gown, she reached towards the ponytail holding the heavy mass of her hair off her face and pulled it loose. Rubbing at her pounding temples, Morgana wondered if she'd be able to find the courage to make up to the castle. Go up to the castle to make a spectacle of myself or stay here and watch the sun set?
"Guess we weren't the only ones who wished to miss the Minister's speech." Tensing at the amused male tone behind her, Morgana turned to look behind her and couldn't hold back the soft sigh that escaped her. Standing a few feet behind her stood Lucius Malfoy dressed in what could only be a tailored suit that showed off his muscular shoulders, narrow waist and long legs. The last time she'd seen the oldest Malfoy his white blonde hair had been past his shoulders, but now was cut short enough to stand up in spikes. Drawing attention to his aristocratic features and dark blue eyes, for a man in his late forties he was a handsome man. Though because of his very public association to having been a Death Eater, Morgana hadn't really paid much attention to how good he looked.
"Not much point in hearing it again after all these years, it's never been as powerful as his first." Spoke Mr. Malfoy's companion, his smooth tone had her trying not to close her eyes to drink in the sound. After nearly six years his voice shouldn't have been as potent since the first time, she discovered how much she loved listening to him speak. Dressed in his usual color black, Severus Snape seemed to have aged backwards since she had last seen him. However, he'd been covered in blood and bleeding out at the time, so dressed in a suit that appeared to be tailored to his broader chest, long legs and broad shoulders that had carried heavy burdens, he appeared much more attractive. During her school years his ebony hair had been shoulder length and always appeared greasy, but much like Mr. Malfoy he'd chopped off his long hair, though slightly longer compared to his companion to allow him to slick it back. Dark brown eyes that appeared black, stared at her with a quizzical look, probably attempting to place if he knew her. Morgana, herself was tempted to tell him to give up, at twelve she'd taught herself to blend in with the crowd, to never stand out, even if it meant dumbing herself down to keep the teacher's from noticing her.
"I wouldn't know, this is my first time." Dropping the charm around her voice, with a flick of her wrist, Morgana noticed the darkening of Mr. Malfoy's blue eyes and the frown that pulled at her former professor's thin lips. Brushing her hair behind her ear, Morgana lifted a leg to splash water, her gaze sliding from the two men to watch the droplets of water sparkle in the dying sunlight, before falling back into the cold lake. This place…. This place here by the lake had been her haven in school, even during the nightmare of her sixth year. Amycus Carrow had feared the water, probably because of the many years he'd spent in Azkaban surrounded by the pounding waves of the ocean. Not even his twin sister Alecto would come near her here, though the Carrow siblings had found a way to force her away from here.
"That would explain why I've never seen you before. Although, you must have been a student if you knew your way to this spot." Smiling at the hidden question in Mr. Malfoy's tone Morgana remained silent, admiring the way the sun lit up the lake making the murky blue seem almost clear. Lifting the hem of her gown, Morgana turned away from the sinking sun to step out of the lake, to glance at the two men that were staring at her. Kneeling briefly to pick up her strappy three-inch heels, she arched an eyebrow inquiringly.
"I'm sorry was that a question?" Morgana asked quietly, glad that even under their regard she appeared calm, confident. Noah would have been proud of her, at least to some extent, her former Master had broken her habit of acting like a frightened kitten on a stormy night. She'd enjoyed the lessons, as he knew she would.
"If it was, the answer is no. My brother attended Hogwarts and would tell me stories about this place in such vivid detail it was easy enough to find." Taking a step forward she couldn't help, but admire Mr. Malfoy's brief flicker of confusion, keeping the smile from forming on her lips, Morgana took another step forward. The grass was wet beneath her feet, and while she was tempted to linger, to learn what she could about the man who'd played a part in some of her earliest sexual fantasies. Her father was waiting for her and there were other men inside the castle who needed to catch a glimpse of her. Disappointment eased away the last of the tension in her chest and the fear lessoned.
"Do you have the same feeling she's playing with us, Severus?" Questioned Lucius, his free hand rubbing along his clean-shaven jaw. His dry tone had Morgana allowing the smile to pull at her crimson painted lips in open amusement at their suspicion. Despite, being correct, she was playing with them and she was enjoying it.
"Paranoid, Mr. Malfoy?" Morgana asked, her voice raspier due to the laughter she was trying to keep from letting loose, a quick glance at Mr. Snape showed he wasn't amused at the possibility.
"I have a meeting back at the castle, but I'm not quite sure of the way. Would you be so kind as to escort me?" Her question had a pale blonde eyebrow arch, Mr. Malfoy much more open about his curiosity and skepticism. Her former professor was harder to read, but his eyes remained fixed on her face, however, she'd noticed that his gaze would flicker down her figure when he thought she wasn't paying attention. It made Morgana pleased that she'd chosen the black form hugging gown, that had been in the back of her closet since the first time she'd worn it for Noah. The corset bodice showed off her narrow waist and was low-cut enough to draw attention to the tops of her breasts. When she moved the lacy fabric of the corset briefly allowed patches of her skin to be seen through the see-thru fabric. While the silky fabric of the dresses skirt flowed around her with barely a brush of the wind, but the high slit on the right side allowed both men to see flashes of her bare legs.
"Of course, it would be bad manners to allow a young lady to wonder off alone." Brushing back strands of hair that flew in her face from the strong gust of cool wind. Walking towards her, Mr. Malfoy offered his arm, causing her to stare at it briefly, before her desire to touch him won out against her own cautious personality. Taking his arm, Morgana could feel wiry muscle hidden beneath his suit jacket and enough body heat to seep into her cold fingertips.
"You know my name young lady, but I'm afraid I don't know yours." Unable to keep the laughter contained any longer, Morgana allowed the soft sound to escape past her lips. Tilting her head, the long, soft strands of her hair brushed along her shoulder through the matching lace sweater that like the fabric of her corset showed hints of her bare skin.
"You're a resourceful man Mr. Malfoy I doubt learning my name will be difficult for you." Lifting the hem of her gown to keep it from getting muddier, she glanced behind them to notice Mr. Snape following a couple steps behind them. Allowing Mr. Malfoy to lead the way up the grassy plain, before the stone, narrow steps seemed to appear embedded in the landscape. However, Morgana and learned from A History of Hogwarts that one of the founding members had used magic to make the stone steps appear one with the land. The freezing stone against her bare feet had her toes curling, slipping her hand from Mr. Malfoy's arm, Morgana lifted her right leg to slip her dark blue strappy heel on. Locking the strap into place, she placed her foot down and quickly placed the other heel on without misbalancing on the three-inch heel and falling over. Brushing her hair back, behind her shoulder's Morgana ran her hands along her breasts, across the lacy fabric of the corset to the slit that began mid-thigh to remove her wand that she'd placed in a leather strap around her right thigh. Briefly, stroking the silver-white wood, she pointed her wand at the muddy, soaked hem of her dress.
"Scourgify," Murmuring the cleaning spell loud enough for the two men to hear her, the mud disappeared from the edge of her gown and dried the fabric, placing her wand back into the strap, Morgana straightened to see both men watching her intently.
"I can find my way to the castle from here gentleman. I don't have time to go the long way." Stepping closer to Mr. Malfoy, Morgana reached up to touch her fingertips to his jaw. Even in heels both men towered over her, though she was able to stand on her tip-toes to place a mere brush of her lips against the warmth of his cheek.
"Until next time Lucius…. Professor." Stepping away, she sent an amused glance over her shoulder at Mr. Snape, before quickly moving up the steps towards the steeper hill that led directly towards the bridge over the rocky crag that allowed quick access to the castle. Because of his injured knee, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Snape had been leading her towards the large quidditch field that offered fewer steep hills to allow Mr. Malfoy to walk up them with less problems, but it would have taken an extra ten minutes to get to the castle. That was ten minutes too long. Despite, her curiosity she wanted to quickly leave this place that held too much of her pain, fear and rage compared to the rare happier memories that used to fill her here.
…
"This is where Dumbledore was laid to rest?" Asked James, his gaze taking in the large crystal coffin that shimmered in the low light from the torches placed strategically around the large area that had been filled with over a dozen people ten minutes earlier. After the heart-wrenching speech from Kingsley the circle of people had thinned out, each one heading towards the castle, where Hermione and Harry had mentioned that everyone spent half the night mingling with one another.
"Minerva couldn't think of a better place, considering this was his home. It just seemed right." Commented Hermione softly, her expressive chocolate brown eyes staring at the coffin sadly. According, to Sirius the young witch had once been a gangly teenage with buck-teeth and wild, busy hair. However, the years had been kind to the young woman in question and he couldn't see her as anything other than the stunning young woman. Golden-brown hair tied into a thick, braid that hung a little past her shoulders, the beautiful maroon gown she'd chosen to wear highlighted her curves and golden complexion. Hermione Granger was gorgeous, even standing next to his son with such confidence and love that it'd filled his soul to witness Harry propose to her just a few days ago. He had missed out on nearly every one of his son's milestones that being a part of Harry's first steps down a different kind of journey, one filled with happiness and love had eased some of the pain and regret.
"We should head to the castle it's getting cold out here and Shacklebolt will probably still have questions for the two of you." Sighed Harry, his free hand hovering over the coffin, before moving down the small steps, Hermione following him, with their hands clasped together. In the darkening twilight James could make out the small twinkle of light that flickered from her engagement ring. The same gold piece that he'd given to Lily when he had proposed all those years ago, that seemed like only yesterday to his mind. God, he missed the woman that had made him feel whole.
"Let's go." Blinking in confusion at the pat on his shoulder, James glanced around to notice Harry and Hermione were already half way up the path that led to the castle that had felt like a second home growing up. Both Sirius and Remus stood on either side of him, reaching a hand up to his throat, James loosened the tie and started walking. There was no reason to concern either of his friends, he would somehow find a time to mourn his wife, but not here. There was too much sadness in this place that at one point during Kingsley's speech he had sworn he had heard a scream echoing from the castle, but no one had reacted to it. Could have just been the wind. He'd thought, except there had been too much pain in that soft sound that he hadn't believed his own excuse for ignoring it.
"Is it me or does the castle seem like it's holding far more secrets then it did when we were student's?" Questioned Sirius, his voice low to ensure it didn't carry to the happy couple ahead of them. A growl escaped from Remus, causing James to glance up to the sky to notice that despite the half-moon making its way up the horizon the wolf they'd nicknamed Moony in their youth was still close to Remus's subconscious, which meant that there was something in the air that was making their friend uneasy.
"You wouldn't be wrong, ever since the battle that took place here there has been lingering emotions staining the castle grounds." Mumbled Remus, a flicker of gold around his iris's let both men know that they were talking to a part of their friend he'd kept buried after James' death and Sirius' imprisonment. Harry had been dumbfounded the night Remus had returned to Grimmauld, his other side finally making itself known at their appearance. Explaining the difference between Remus and Moony hadn't been the easiest conversation. How did one explain that Remus kept all his darker emotions buried deep inside himself for fear that he'd lose control over the 'beast' thus creating a part of himself that only manifested itself when both halves of himself felt safe?
"I'm almost afraid to ask what kind of emotions." Running a hand through his freshly cut hair, James glanced over his shoulder to notice the gold fade away from Remus' pale brown eyes, reinforcing the decision not to ask, because like him he'd lost a woman who had made him forget that there was darkness in the world. However, unlike him Remus was able to watch their son Teddy grow and that boy was such a ray of sunshine that he had a habit of making everyone around him smile. In the short span of two weeks, Teddy was a fixture in James' new life that it pained him greatly to make the decision to move out of Grimmauld.
"Enough of the damn morbid talk, this maybe a memorial, but does it have to be so damn depressing?" Snapped Sirius, his storm grey eyes flashing in the bright, glowing light that escaped the opened doors of Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione quickly walked past the lone figure standing in front of the entry way, ebony tresses curling wildly down her back, her dress swirling around her ankles with each pull of the wind. It wasn't until he'd past her that James felt his gaze stray over his shoulder to lock eyes with pale blue eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, though none of them showed on her delicate features.
"Morgana!" Hissed a man's voice causing the woman's eyes to blink, erasing what he wasn't sure he'd seen, her unusual eyes moved past him to stare further into the large hallway. He watched her spine straighten, while holding herself with a sense of confidence that had been absent from her stance seconds earlier. Unconsciously, James felt his steps slow before coming to a stop, his gaze drawn to the unknown woman for reason's he couldn't understand. She was pretty, could almost be considered beautiful if he didn't compare her to Lily. Except, he felt his mind drawing the differences between them, her skin was pale ivory covered in a lace wrap over the thin straps of her black dress that hugged a thin waist and drew attention to the pale, round flesh of her breasts from the low cut of the bodice. It complemented the darkness of her hair and the icy blue of her eyes. Lily had been all about color, her long hair a deep red that had complimented her fiery personality, while her skin had been a soft golden hue with freckles along her nose and shoulders. Not to mention the way she'd smiled…. it'd blown him away that first time they'd met on the train.
"You alright, James?" Jerking at Sirius's question breaking into his thought's, causing his mind to struggle to come up with a response, however, he caught her moving slowly from the doorway out of the corner of his eye. Both women coming together in that moment in the graceful fluid way she moved, except Lily hadn't been aware of her sensuality, she'd been a woman who had allowed every emotion to flow through her good or bad. While, this woman used her sensuality as if it was second nature or as shield and he'd bet his half of the Potter fortune that this woman never allowed her emotions to rule her.
"If I were you, I'd look elsewhere." Hissed the same male voice that had broken the woman's mussing, a male hand reaching out to encircle her arm in a rough grip that had a flicker of anger fill him. She'll have bruises later. He thought, but quickly tried to dismiss it from his mind, what did he care?
"My daughter is not for one such as you to ogle. Keep your gaze off her." Snapped a man James recognized despite the appearance of age since the last he'd seen him twenty-five years ago. The scandal that had spread throughout the wizarding world all those years ago between Layla Grindelwald and Henry Bloodburn had been splashed across the Daily Prophet for month's when it came to light, he'd put his wife aside for his mistress. Age had not softened the man who'd been three years older than him during school and his biggest opponent on the Qudditch field. Angry, hooded brown eyes stared directly into his, lips pulled back in a sneer, James wasn't surprised to find that Henry was still the same as the boy he'd known.
"Come Morgana, your brother and I have been waiting for you." Murmured Henry, his daughter allowing him to pull her after him without so much as a protest, her eyes empty and chilling in their coldness. Sometime, during the years Henry had failed to notice that his daughter, Morgana he had called her, did not think highly of him.
"Well…. glad to see somethings haven't changed." James bit out dryly, anger still filling him at the tight hold Henry had on the young woman, one who appeared nearly identical to her mother, who as James glanced into the decorated Great Hall wasn't inside, but his wife, Serena was.
"Wouldn't be so sure, Bloodburn has tight control over the Wizengamot and his connections within the other departments of the Ministry is something that's changed. After Layla's death he turned all his drive into climbing up the ranks of the Ministry and with his wife's formidable connection's as well he almost became Minister." Came Kingsley's voice, the other man stepping from the Great Hall, his gaze following Henry's long stride towards the table next to where the Weasley twins and their older brother Bill sat with Harry and Hermione, who were standing behind their chairs.
"Layla passed?" Sirius asked softly, shifting his attention away from Henry and his daughter at his friend's tone coated in sadness. Layla Grindelwald had been a sweet, passionate young woman whom he'd met once at a Ministry event. Layla hadn't attended Hogwarts, but he remembered that she'd been two year's older than Sirius and had spent a few months in London each year with different pureblood families. According to Sirius, her mother had wanted her to know her English family and she'd been one of the few distant relatives that Sirius had cherished.
"When the girl was four, a spell gone wrong. She'd sat by her mother's side for two days, while Henry was away with his wife on a trip. I was one of the Auror's assigned with investigating Layla's accident, the one to tell Henry of her death and to bring Morgana to him when they returned. He couldn't look at her." There was a reason why Shacklebolt was Minister and not Henry, he felt compassion even for his rival.
"Don't mistake his harsh treatment of his daughter as a sign he doesn't care for her. At least, to a certain insider Mr. Bloodburn cares for her deeply, but has trouble expressing it." Commented a young man who appeared to be close in age to Harry, beside him stood another man who was obviously related to Lucius Malfoy, the white-blonde hair and blue-gray eyes were distinctive to their family. Just as ginger hair was a familial trait of the Weasley family.
"Which insider would that be Mr. Zabini?" Asked Kingsley, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he turned to look at the younger man, who simply tilted his head and remained silent.
"Smug bastard doesn't reveal his sources, waste to ask Kingsley." Sighed the Malfoy boy, his hand running through his disheveled hair, while annoyance crossed his angular features, but it was the fondness in his tone that alerted James that he didn't really mean his words. Obviously, the two young men were close.
"Speaking of sources, gentlemen these are the two men I've assigned to tracking down your…. Witch. While, you both are here take this opportunity to study the women and inform Mr. Zabini and Mr. Malfoy if you have any suspicious. Now if you can excuse me, I must speak with Minerva." Moving away from them towards the other side of the Great Hall, where James could see his former transfiguration professor, who was now Headmistress, standing with a few of her colleagues.
"She wouldn't be naïve enough to come here, would she?" Asked James, his gaze shifting along the men and women mingling through the room, stopping on Morgana who sat across from a man who appeared nervous.
"Your witch was confident and seeing how she succeeded in getting out of the Ministry without raising an alarm, coming here would hardly be difficult. If either of you need me, I'll be over their congratulating Potter and Granger." Lifting his other hand, James caught sight of the bundle of orange roses Draco held, before moving past him and Sirius to pause next to Remus to whisper something that had his friend smiling.
"Don't cause too much trouble Draco and keep your teasing to a minimum. I'd hate see Hermione transfigure you back into a ferret." Chuckled Remus, while a loud bark of laughter came from Sirius and Mr. Zabini coughed to cover up his own laugh. Clearly, he was missing something.
"It was once." Snarled Mr. Malfoy, his hand coming up to slap against Remus' shoulder, causing him to laugh softly, while the younger man walked into the crowd towards the table where Harry and Hermione sat.
"How'd they become friends? They hated one another when I was around." Asked Sirius, his hands sliding into his trousers, to stare at Mr. Zabini curiously. It would make sense for his son and the son of Malfoy to be at odds with one another, considering it was clear their personalities and views were different.
"To make a long story short Draco saved Harry's life and vice versa." Commented Mr. Zabini, when he stopped laughing to stare after Draco Malfoy with a flicker of fondness filling his light brown-gold eyes. James wondered how long the two young men had been friends, it was clear they cared for one other just as he cared for Sirius and Remus.
"I'll tell you the whole story another time. I believe Harry is motioning us to join them. Are you coming Blaise?" Wrapping an arm around Sirius' shoulder at Remus' comment, he had them stepping further into the Great Hall and into the crowd without hearing the younger man's reply to their friends' question.
"So, that's his illegitimate daughter? No wonder Serena hate's her, she's the spitting image of mother." Whispered one of the older women gossiping with several other women, each one dressed in a pastel colored gown that didn't seem appropriate for a memorial.
"Seems like all these people care about is Henry's daughter. How long did he keep her hidden to warrant this much interest?" Questioned Sirius softly, it was the same question James had begun wondering himself. He'd seen how many names had been carved on the Obsidian stone and yet no one was talking about those people they'd lost.
…
"Morgana, this is Dane's wife, Evelyn." Spoke their father, his tone that usual gruff mumble, while his hand motioned to the woman sitting beside her brother. As if she could be anyone else. Staring at the young woman, Morgana wondered if Dane had truly picked this woman for himself, her features were soft with emerald green eyes that stood out from a face that shouted innocent, elegant and wealthy. Honey blonde hair was styled to show off her pixie cut to give her a more mature appearance. Standing up, the tip of her head hit Dane's shoulder, the gown Evelyn wore was probably a creation her stepmother had picked out for the other woman to accent her light tanned skin. However, the coral dress showed off her small baby bump, causing the vile taste of bile to fill her mouth for the second time that night. The distance between her and Dane finally being slapped in front of her face, causing a keening cry to fill her head.
"It's nice to finally meet you Morgana, I've heard a lot about you." Her voice held a hidden strength in her dulcet tones, Serena must not have noticed that little part about the woman she'd chosen to be her only son's wife. Sliding her gaze to the floor Morgana took the empty seat in front of her brother and sat. Words clogged her throat making it impossible to speak, her words were a lie no one spoke of her, because it was better to forget that she was broken.
"Don't mind her my child, Morgana wasn't taught the most basic of manners." Imputed her stepmother, her words coated in ice. Despite, her name Serena Bloodburn was a woman whom her father and mother had twisted into a woman of ice. Incapable of bending, unwilling to allow the man she'd chosen over her parent's objection's to ever allow him to hurt her again. Morgana might dislike Serena and vice versa, but she'd learned enough about the past to realize that Henry was the one who had made Serena who she was today.
"Not something I would gloat about Serena, considering it was you who was supposed to teach me those manners." Morgana bit back, causing a ghost of a smile to cross the older woman's red lips. At forty-five Serena was the opposite of her mother Layla, she was what all the other society wives craved to be, because even though she didn't have a husband who lover her, he didn't belittle or push her to the very edges of his life. Her stepmother had been the one to convince their father to run for Minister when the Wizarding World had settled and tried to rebuild. She had gotten him thru the campaign during the month's that Morgana had been in St. Mungo's and had nearly carried him to the title of Minister of Magic. Her father might not love Serena, but he respected her.
"You haven't lost your sharp tongue, and here we were hoping America might have softened you to an extent." Grimacing, Morgana shifted her eyes up and stared into Serena's hazel eyes. Ringlet's of reddish-brown hair fell in small strands around her aristocratic features, while the rest of her long hair was pulled into a stylish braided bun. Her make-up was light, showing of her still youthful appearance, while her strapless dark green gown showed her curvy figure and pale skin, appearing every bit as a sophisticated queen dripping in emerald jewelry that finished her outfit.
"I'm afraid it only made it sharper," Picking up one of the crystal glasses placed beside the porcelain dinnerware, Morgana took a sip of the ice-cold water to wash the taste of bile from her throat. It was if the taste was imbedded in her throat that not even the cool liquid could wash it away, however it wasn't as if she could ignore that this was the place that held her darkest secrets. Morgana was sure that if a capable wizard was able to use certain…less favorable spells to read the cursory emotions and visions of objects throughout the castle they'd be able to find or see what had happened here. Luck... She understood it was luck and the lack of curiosity to see what had gone on here that no one had discovered the formidable darkness in these halls.
"It must be the company you kept in America. From all accounts being lovers with Mr. Hayes and his brother? Or was it a cousin? Mr. Griffin must have given you ample opportunity to sharpen it." Keeping her expression blank at her stepmother's words, Morgana couldn't help but feel amused when she caught her father jerking to the edge of his seat at Serena's drop of names. Even this far across the ocean Noah and Silas were well known for being astounding Auror's though there were rumors and plenty of gossip from the upper-class that despite their noble profession, both men dabbled in Dark Magic. With both men being the heirs of powerful pureblood families, she'd been amazed to find that neither were interested in Dark Magic, but they hadn't turned her in or judged her for doing so. Placing the glass of water back onto the table, Morgana used her free hand to brush back the heavy weight of her hair and leaning further into her chair, she stared right back into Serena's smug gaze. There must be something she wants. Father and Dane aren't that good at acting.
"Tell me those aren't the kind of men you've been keeping company with? Have you not heard the rumors? What would people think or say if they learned of your involvement with suspected dark wizards." Growled her father, reaching for the goblet that held a ruby liquid, Morgana took a sip of the dry wine and grimaced. Arching an eyebrow at Serena, Morgana lifted her glass in respect to her win.
"I'd tell them to find something else to gossip about. After all, they were wrong about the Malfoy's, not to mention the Lestrange brothers and Professor Snape who not only protected Potter, but this school as well when it mattered. Mr. Hayes is also the head of the Auror office of MACUSA and you don't honestly think they'd let a dark wizard run it?" Dane snorted at her words, while his pretty wife stared at her with wide eyes. Clearly, everyone at this table were merely content being white witches and wizards. Each of them unable to look past the teachings of their professors to try and discover new spells or create new potions. Most of all they didn't have the ability to think about trying to have the magic around them grow. For a moment, Morgana felt a flicker of sympathy for them. How must it be to see the world as only black and white?
"You take too much after your mother's family, Morgana." Sighed her father, when the table next to them erupted into a fit of laughter, keeping his words between them. Placing the wine glass back onto the table, Morgana studied her father out of the corner of her eye. He was still an attractive man for a man in his early fifties, with very few grey hair's in his chestnut brown hair. Wrinkles around his mouth and eyes gave him a more distinguishing appearance, while the soft gold robes showed of his broad shoulders and wiry frame. He'd clearly come to this event to show himself off as to why he should be Minister.
"It's a good thing death doesn't frighten me the way it does you. Remaining stagnant however, that father frightens me far more." Shaking her head, Morgana straightened in her chair and stood up, feeling the ever-yawning distance between her and the family she had hoped would fill the void her mother had left. For a time, Dane had filled that space, but with the last eight years their words had been filled with hidden meanings, cutting jabs and silence. Tonight, she was too weary to play this never ending game and lucky enough a familiar face caught her eye entering the Great Hall.
"Don't worry father I'll do my filial duty and sing your praises while I'm here. All I ask is that you and Dane don't meddle where you shouldn't." Glancing first at her father and then to her older brother who appeared to be gripping his goblet tightly enough that if he wasn't careful it was going to shatter. Moving swiftly away from their table without waiting for a reply, her attention focused on the man weaving his way across the room.
…
"Bloody hell, how bad is it?" Growled Charlie, his hands running through the short, nearly butchered strands of his hair for the hundredth time since his mother had cornered him at the Burrow earlier and had quite literally hacked at his hair. Next to him he could hear Remus coughing softly into his hand, did the git think he was fooling anyone? At least he'd escaped the house in the dress robes he'd chosen for the evening and not in the nearly hundred-year-old ones he'd seen his mum washing and drying outside. What did he care that he'd grown another inch or that the robes were a little tight around his shoulder's because he'd gained more muscle since he'd last wore them? Unlike his brother's he wasn't looking to attract a woman or find a wife. He was much more interested in heading back to Romania and taking care of his dragons. Except, he'd blasted agreed to teach the Care of Magical Creatures classes while Hagrid went to visit his half-brother for the first three months of classes. Charlie blamed Hermione for him agreeing to that one.
"How'd your mum corner you this time?" Chuckled Remus, his lips pulled into a grin, giving him a more carefree appearance. Sure, Charlie was glad that the older man was finally showing signs of genuine happiness, but did it have to be at his expense?
"Dratted twins. They left one of their failed creations in our Dad's shed and who should happen to get trapped in it? Probably, why she sent me out there to help Dad clean." Grimacing Charlie dropped his hands from his hair and placed them in the pockets of his trousers, annoyed that he had to dress up and attend this event. What was the point? To remind everyone that their loved ones were gone and no longer mattered to the living? Shit, cynical much Charlie? He thought to himself, pushing past a couple of rowdy young men, he paused when his gaze landed on the object of their conversation.
"If you won't do it I will. There's no chance she'll turn me down." Gloated the boy in expensive, tailored robes that were the color of peach or maybe lilac it was hard to tell in the flickering candlelight. Shaking his head in amusement, he stood behind the boys and waited.
"Shit. She's coming over here. How's my hair?" Scratching at his stubbled jaw, Charlie watched the younger man pat his slicked back honey-blonde hair and run a hand across his sleeves to make sure there were no wrinkles. He could have told the boy that she hadn't once glanced in his direction, but why destroy the poor boys hope.
"Charlie, I didn't know you were in London." Her voice was soft-spoken that somehow carried through the loud chatter of the crowd and had the three boys jerking their heads around to look at him in open curiosity and disbelief. Even Remus who'd moved ahead of him towards the table their friends and family occupied turned around to glance back at Charlie then to her.
"I feel as if I should be the one saying that Sky. Didn't you once tell me that even if the world was plunged into hell you would never come back to London." The boys coughed awkwardly around them, before they scrambled around him to get away or to make it appear less obvious that they weren't trying to eavesdrop like the other men and women standing around them.
"What can I say, but that I was overly dramatic at nineteen. Wouldn't you agree?" Laughter sparkled in her eyes that reminded him of a winter sky, making him realize it'd been almost three years since they had last seen one another.
"More troubled than anything else…. you've grown." Mentally grimacing at his comment, Charlie wanted to slap himself when her crimson lips pulled into an innocent smile. Long, silken hair that was most often mistaken as ebony fell past her shoulders to stop just past the curve of her breasts, he'd sunk his hands in the heavy mass enough times to know that it was soft to the touch. Flashes of ivory skin glowed in the candlelight whenever she moved, making him wish that the light was stronger to allow him to catch more glimpses. However, what caught his attention was the silver choker necklace wrapped around her neck was empty of any jewelry or insignias, it just appeared to be a plain, silver linked necklace. Sky no longer belonged to anyone.
"As have you. Are my babies treating you well?" Snorting at the amused question, he closed the distance between them and reached for her hand, her skin soft underneath his much rougher one. Looking at her no one would know that she'd spent nearly a year in Romania roughing it in the woods, climbing the frosty Carpathian Mountains or attempting her craziest stunts. Trying to ride a Norwegian Ridgeback. Her antics had nearly stopped his heart more than once, before she'd just up and left. For the first few years she'd come back during December to late January only to leave the way she'd come, quietly.
"Only you would call a two-ton Ridgeback a baby and no they haven't. Your favorite Ra gave me a new burn mark on my chest before I came here." Lifting her hand to place it against his chest, just above his heart where the still sore burn was located. A perfectly wing-tipped eyebrow arched at his statement only to be replaced by the soft, raspy sound of her laughter.
"What did you do to him to warrant such a wound?" Sky asked, her blue eyes looking up at him with that expression he knew she rarely showed to others. Opening his mouth to reply he groaned when familiar voices sounded closer than they were moment's ago.
"Out of all our brother's Charlie I suspected you least of all from hiding such a beautiful woman from us." Cut in Fred's teasing voice, while Charlie caught a flicker of movement coming up on his left side, light reddish-gold hair alerted him to it being his older brother Bill. Out of all the Weasley clan, only Bill's hair had the light golden color to it, from spending years working outside in the bright Egyptian sun during his curse breaking days.
"Curious, have you been hiding all your paramours from your brothers Charlie?" Asked Sky, her delicate features twisting in open laughter at his younger brothers exaggerated shocked expressions. Only Bill remained grim-faced, his older brother having met one or two of the women he'd seen, and he was the only one that knew why he kept them a secret.
"I'd stay off the topic of lovers if I were you Sky. Lucas and Allison were quite shocked when they returned to New York to visit family to hear a rumor about you with Silas Griffin." Charlie half-expected her to walk away after he let that tidbit slip from his mouth, they never brought up former or current lovers when they saw one another. However, she merely stared directly into his eyes and shrugged a slim shoulder as if sleeping with a wealthy, pureblooded wizard rumored to dabble with Dark Magic was an everyday topic.
"What can I say I hate sleeping alone." Sadness tinged with a flicker of fear that she quickly hid beneath her long lashes, had him wondering if the nightmares were still vivid in her mind, even after all these years. With the little information he'd gathered when they were sharing a bed, he knew whatever had happened to her had broken portions of her psyche. Pulling her hand from his, he watched her wrap her arms around herself, as if to protect herself.
"Anyways, I just came over to say hello, before I leave." Sighing Charlie brushed Fred's arm from his shoulders and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug. Inhaling the scent of her perfume, mandarin blossoms mixed with creamy vanilla, Charlie had to fight off the urge to bury his hands into her hair and kiss her.
"Goodnight Sky. You look better since we last saw one other." Nearly soundless laughter greeted his observation, but it needed to be said. Until he'd pulled her to him and felt her melt into his embrace, he hadn't believed that the fear in her eyes wasn't because of him. Their romantic involvement might have been brief, but to be what he thought she needed he'd added more scars.
"You're sweet Charlie. I like the haircut" Pulling away from her, he felt her fingers pull on the back strands of his hair before slipping back into the crowd, her steps taking her to the door.
"Explain, dear brother. How do you know Morgana Bloodburn?" Rubbing his hand along his jaw, he turned to look at Bill questioningly.
"Who?" He asked.