Chapter 14
Morgan sprinted down the lawn and ran across the grounds as fast as she could, towards the Forbidden Forest.
Cover… she needed to find cover.
She could hear Leita's cries for help in her head the whole way there. As soon as she reached the line of trees Morgan shifted her form into that of a falcon and took flight. She sensed Leita was somewhere around the edge of Hogsmeade, and she pumped her wings, racing in that direction.
She was flying over the Hog's Head when Morgan received an image from Leita of her and Hedwig huddled on the roof of the Shrieking Shack. Sending the canary a wave of reassurance, Morgan turned and headed up the hill where the run-down house was located. She spotted the two birds huddled by the chimney.
Morgan circled once before landing next to them.
What happened Leita? asked Morgan.
She was attacked! Someone was trying to steal her mail. I didn't see who because they had a cloak on but I had to help her. We barely got away and she's hurt really badly.
Morgan approached the snowy owl slowly, trying not to alarm it. The owl was far more intelligent than Morgan thought possible. It was like she knew Morgan wasn't a normal bird but, at the same time, knew that she was trying to help her, not hurt her.
When she was close enough, Morgan assessed the owl's injuries. Her most blatant injury was her broken wing. Someone had man-handled her very roughly, almost like they were trying to prevent her from escaping. Hedwig also had several burns from narrowly-missed spells and one of her legs had a deep gash in it.
Morgan sent a wave of comfort into the owl's mind, trying to sooth and ease some of the pain. It was then that she noticed the letter tied to Hedwig's uninjured leg.
Is that for Harry?
Hedwig hooted softly. Morgan took that as a yes. The owl tried to rise but its injury was too severe. Morgan felt her heart clench at the loyalty this bird showed to her master. It reminded her of the bond shared between spirit beasts and Sorcery.
Easy there, Hedwig. Morgan shifted back into her human form and gently scooped Hedwig into her arms.
"Sssh. It'll be all right," she said softly, stroking the owl's head.
Morgan sense the owl's thoughts. She was more worried about delivering the letter than her own health.
"Don't worry. I'll get you to Harry. You can trust me." Are you okay, Leita?
Leita nodded.
"All right then, let's go."
The journey back was more difficult. Morgan levitated herself so she could fly back to Hogwarts but she had to hide in the clouds or else risk being spotted by either wizards in Hogsmeade or students on the grounds or in the castle. By the time she landed on the Astronomy Tower, she was soaked to the bones from the moisture in the clouds and shivering from the cold.
At this rate, I'll have pneumonia by tonight.
Morgan made her way down the tower and back into the main part of the castle. She paused by the stairs, wondering who she should bring Hedwig to, Harry or Professor Grubby-Plank. Grubby-Plank seemed the obvious choice since she was the Care of Magical Creatures instructor, but Morgan knew Hedwig would first want to deliver her letter, regardless of her broken wing.
"I'm sorry, Hedwig, but I have to take you to Grubby-Plank. It's for your own good."
The owl gave Morgan a reproachful look.
"I promise I'll deliver the letter for you, okay?" Morgan sent her emotions into the owl's mind, trying to prove her sincerity and her concern for the owl's well-being.
After a minute, Hedwig finally gave in. Morgan removed the letter from her leg and tucked it into her pocket before rushing down the marble staircase, heading for the staffroom where she hoped Grubby-Plank was.
In her haste, she forgot to knock and simply threw open the door. "Professor Grubby-Plank!" Morgan found herself facing a very surprised Professor McGonagall, who had been standing by the staffroom door.
The woman quickly recovered and her face turned into a very displeased scowl. "Miss Risika, how dare you come bursting in here like that! Why aren't you in class?"
"Please Professor, I'm looking for Professor Grubby-Plank. This owl is hurt and she needs help."
McGonagall's eyebrow shot up as she recognized Hedwig in Morgan's arms. "What are you doing with Potter's owl?"
"I saw her on the grounds when I was –uh, going back to Gryffindor Tower because I forgot my notes. I think her wing is broken."
"Let's have a look," said Professor Grubby-Plank, coming up from behind McGonagall with a pipe in her mouth. Morgan gently placed Hedwig in Grubby-Plank's arms. She examined Hedwig's wing carefully, gently running her fingers up and down the owl's feathers.
"It looks like she was attacked. But by what I'm not sure…"
"Could it have been a Thestral?" asked McGonagall but Grubby-Plank shook her head.
"No, Hagrid has the herd well trained to not attack owls. There are burns on her underside… very strange."
"Er, will she be all right, Professor?" asked Morgan.
"Oh I wouldn't be too worried about her. I'll have her good as new in a few days. She just needs some rest."
Morgan smiled with relief. "Thank you, Professor."
"Come, Risika, I'll escort you back to class." Morgan followed McGonagall out and up the marble staircase. But instead of taking her down the corridor where Binn's classroom was, she led her down another corridor and into an empty classroom.
McGonagall closed the door behind her and rounded on Morgan with a serious face. "Tell me exactly what happened this morning. I saw you run out of the Great Hall with more urgency than you just forgetting your notes. You ran like the devil himself was after you."
Morgan bit her lip at having been caught lying and quickly explained Leita's distress call. McGonagall's scowl deepened as Morgan finished.
"Spell work, you say… someone was obviously trying to read Potter's letter. Who was the letter from?"
Morgan shrugged. "I didn't check but it's in my pocket."
McGonagall nodded. "Very well, I will inform Professor Dumbledore of this. Make sure Potter gets that letter. You're dismissed."
"Yes, Professor."
By the time Morgan arrived at History of Magic, the class was almost over. Ron, Harry, and Hermione gave her funny looks but she shook her head. As soon as they were in a secluded corner in the courtyard they bombarded her with questions.
"Where did you run off to this morning?" "Why did you miss class?" "And why are your robes all damp?"
"Hold on, hold on! Let me explain," said Morgan with her hands up. "I forgot my notes this morning and ran back to get them. While I was in the Entrance Hall, I saw Hedwig crash-land and went to help her. The grass was wet from morning dew so my robes got wet. Um, anyways, Hedwig's wing was broken and she looked like she'd been attacked so I took her to Grubby-Plank. Don't worry," added Morgan, seeing Harry's alarmed expression. "Grubby-Plank says she'll be fine after she's rested a few days."
"But why was she attacked?" asked Ron.
"I think it might be because of this." Morgan pulled out Harry's letter from her pocket. "I think someone's trying to read your mail, Harry."
She handed it over and Harry stared at it with a shocked look on his face.
"Who's it from?" asked Ron.
Harry remained silent, still staring at the cover of the envelope. Morgan suspected he already knew without opening it due to the handwriting. He then looked up at her with suspicion in his eyes.
Morgan threw up her hands and shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."
Okay so that had been a lie. She couldn't resist a peek into Harry's mind, which told her it was from his godfather, Sirius Black – a wizard who's been on the run for the past two years. No one at Hogwarts except the Weasleys and Hermione knew that Sirius was still keeping contact with Harry. He was also part of the Order so naturally everyone in the Order knew. However, Sirius Black was of no concern to her. Her only job was to protect Harry so Sirius Black can do whatever he wanted – as long as he didn't put Harry in danger.
Morgan picked up her backpack and swung it over her shoulder before walking back inside, heading for the Gryffindor Tower. She intended to change out of her damp robes into fresh, dry ones before heading back down for Double Potions.
Okay, Morgan took it back, Sirius Black was a big concern of hers – he nearly got caught last night while talking with Harry in the fireplace!
Morgan had been practicing intermediate fire magic when she was practically kicked out of the common room by two very anxious prefects and one panicking Harry Potter. Hermione had come up with some silly excuse about Morgan needing her sleep and half-dragged her to their dorm before locking her in and returning back downstairs. Obviously she didn't know Morgan could just phase into her shadow and reappear back in the common room, which is what she did, but she hid in the shadows to keep watch over the trio.
And it was a good thing she did too. Having learned how to communicate using fire magic from her recent readings, she had a pretty good understanding of the wizards' Floo Network. Morgan was able to sense when Umbridge had entered the Floo Network and forcefully repelled Sirius from his fireplace before Umbridge could grab him. If Umbridge had got to Sirius first, that would've landed both him and Harry in deep trouble with the Ministry.
If I ever meet this Sirius Black I swear I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. This bodyguard job is hard enough. If he lands Harry in prison I am so not going to go and bust the kid out.
Morgan stabbed furiously at her steak the next night. On top of last night's near miss, Harry had Quidditch practice tonight at seven. It was dark, rainy, and cold outside and Morgan still had a huge pile of homework to do. This was just perfect.
"You know, if you keep stabbing at your steak like that you might as well have meatloaf," said Harry.
Morgan glared at him, making him flinched.
"Right… none of my business. Er, let's go Ron. It's almost seven." Harry and Ron got up and pulled on their cloaks. They hurried off, leaving Morgan alone at the table. Hermione had already returned to Gryffindor Tower to finish her homework.
Morgan sighed, envious of Hermione's free time, and slung on her backpack before getting up and following after Harry and Ron to the Quidditch pitch.
I suppose it would be good practice to try and conjure fire in the rain…
It was nearly nine when Morgan trudged into the locker room looking for Potter and Weasley. The rain had been intense and Morgan couldn't see any of them as the Quidditch team practiced. She was just lucky that Angelina blew her whistle right above her to indicate that practice had ended or else Morgan would still be sitting up on the bleachers freezing her ass off.
Morgan pulled back the hood of her cloak and glanced around the room. She spotted Potter and Weasley alone talking in hushed voices; the other players must have already left. Morgan stayed to the shadows and listened to the boys' conversation.
"Are you all right, mate?" asked Ron.
Harry grunted as he rubbed his forehead. "It's my scar again… it hurts but not as bad as the welcoming feast."
"Did you see a vision or something?"
"No… but I felt him, Ron. He's… angry – no, furious."
"Furious? About what?"
"Something… something's not being done fast enough… he's really angry and losing his patience," muttered Harry as he concentrated.
"Was he mad that last time with Umbridge too?"
"No… no he was…" Harry paused. "He was… happy. He was really happy over something."
Ron whistled. "You should take over Divinations, mate."
"Look, I'm not predicting the future or anything. I'm just…"
"Predicting You-Know-Who's mind?"
"More like reading his emotions… like a mood ring. Dumbledore said last year my scar would hurt whenever Voldemort was near or when he was feeling a deep sense of hatred. I guess now that he's back I can feel when he's really happy too."
Morgan frowned over this new tidbit. If Harry could predict the Dark Lord's emotions then the connection between their minds was strengthening. She needed to reinforce Harry's walls tonight and maybe every night for the rest of this assignment. But the strength of their connection was quite frightening. How could their minds be linked so strongly and so naturally, like they were once a single being?
She heard cloaks being thrown on as the boys rose to leave. Morgan phased into the shadows just as they passed by. She followed them back into the castle and reappeared in the common room just as they climbed in through the portrait hole. Now that Harry was safely in Gryffindor Tower, Morgan decided to head up to her dormitory to take a hot shower and start her homework. She was halfway across the room when Hermione called out to her.
"Morgan! There you are! I've been looking all over for you."
"What is it Hermione?" asked Morgan, curiously. Hermione dragged her over to her table, which was covered with books and parchments of notes.
"Where were you? I checked everywhere for you: the Great Hall, the Library, our dormitory…"
"I was…er," Morgan searched her mind for some excuse. Hermione was watching her intently. "I was in the Owlery. I was sending a letter home to my guardian."
Hermione raised one eyebrow, questioning. "The Owlery… at nine o'clock? Are there any owls up there this late at night?"
"Well, er…"
"And you do realize we're not allowed out in the corridors after nine?"
"Er… "
"Not to mention you're completely soaked and last I checked the Owlery had a roof."
Damn, she's got me. Hermione was studying her with suspicion in her eyes. Her lips were pursed as she waited for Morgan to explain herself, but what could she say? The truth wasn't exactly an option right now.
"Look, Hermione, I have a lot of homework to do. Can we just drop this? So I was out a little late. It's only fifteen minutes after nine. And look," Morgan pointed, "Harry and Ron came in after nine and I don't see you scolding them."
Hermione crossed her arms. "That's because they were at Quidditch practice. As a prefect, I want to know where you've been this whole time?"
"And if I don't tell you?"
"I'll go straight to McGonagall and tell her you've been out of bounds repeatedly."
Morgan didn't see this as much a threat since McGonagall knew what Morgan was really doing but she'd probably still put Morgan in detention as a cover up. Though, as long as Potter didn't land himself in detention again, Morgan probably wouldn't actually have to serve detention. But all the same, Morgan supposed she should act like she was afraid of Hermione's threat…
"There's no need to go that far, Hermione. Look, I'll make you a deal. I promise I won't go wandering around after curfew anymore if you let this topic drop this time."
Hermione's eyes narrowed and she scowled. "And if you break your promise?"
"You can go to McGonagall and she'll put me in detention and I won't complain one bit."
Morgan could tell Hermione was considering this carefully, but in the end, her scowl lessened to a slight frown and she nodded in agreement. "All right, it's a deal."
They shook on it but just as Morgan was about to pull away, Hermione's hand tightened.
"Morgan, remember this: The second you break this promise I will go straight to McGonagall, and I swear I will personally put you in detention – or did you forget prefects have that power?"
Morgan gulped.
"I will be keeping a very close eye on you so don't think you can sneak out of bed in the middle of the night," said Hermione in a low, dangerous voice. This mortal was not someone Morgan wanted to mess with when it came to rules and schoolwork.
Morgan nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Hermione."
"Hey, Hermione!" called Ron from across the room. He and Harry were sitting in front of the fireplace working on their homework. "Can you take a look at my Potions essay?"
"Sure." Hermione gave Morgan one last meaningful glare before moving to sit down next to Ron.
Morgan sighed with relief. Damn the girl was too sharp for her own good.
The night passed at a snail's pace. Morgan worked on her homework in a secluded corner in the common room. Hermione refused to go to bed until Morgan finished her homework – no doubt making sure Morgan didn't sneak out while Hermione was asleep. She sat in a nearby armchair knitting little hats and socks. When Morgan asked why she was making them for the house elves, Hermione began what felt like a long, rehearsed speech on how house elves were being mistreated as slaves when they should be paid workers. Morgan listened absently as she finished her Potions essay.
It was around one in the morning when Hermione fell asleep in her chair. Morgan sighed as she set down her quill. Glancing around, she realized Hermione wasn't the only one who had fallen asleep in the common room. Across the room, she spotted Harry fast asleep in his armchair – his potions book laid forgotten on the floor.
Morgan grabbed her cloak, which had dried, and wrapped it around Harry. She then lifted Hermione onto her back and carried the girl up to their room. After making sure Hermione was settled in bed, she returned to the common room, intending to take Harry back to his room. She had placed her hand on his arm when suddenly her mind was sucked into his dream again.
Familiar dark corridors surrounded them as Harry proceeded with great urgency down the hall. Morgan sensed his excitement growing as a door drew near. She became curious as to what was on the other side of the door. His hand was only an inch from the doorknob when a voice jolted both of them awake.
"Harry Potter, sir!"
"Waaah!"
Morgan ducked behind his armchair as Harry jumped to his feet.
"Who's there?" Harry squinted in the dark, trying to identify the voice.
"It's me, sir, Dobby!" squeaked a voice.
"Dobby?"
Morgan peered around the armchair to see an elf-like creature dressed in layers upon layers of clothes. And by the looks of the elf's hats and socks, it looked like he was wearing all of Hermione's elf clothes.
"What are you doing here, Dobby?"
"Professor Grubby-Plank has sent Dobby to return Harry Potter's owl to him, sir."
"Hedwig!" The snowy owl, which had been perched on Dobby's tower of hats, hooted softly as it fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder. "Thanks, Dobby."
Dobby bowed. "Any time, sir. Dobby has been cleaning Gryffindor Tower every night in hopes of meeting Harry Potter and tonight Dobby's wish finally came true! If Harry Potter ever needs anything, sir, he can always ask Dobby."
"Well, it's good to see you again Dobby and I'll keep that in mind."
Dobby bowed again. "Oh, Harry Potter, sir. You dropped your cloak."
"My cloak?"
Morgan cursed under her breath as Harry bent to picked up her cloak.
"This isn't my cloak."
"Oh, then perhaps it is Young Mistress' cloak."
"Young Mistress?"
"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Young Mistress is hiding behind your armchair."
"What?"
Cursing herself again, Morgan quickly phased into her shadow. By the time Harry's head rounded the corner, Morgan was gone.
"I think you're hallucinating, Dobby," said Harry. He pushed himself back up to his feet by using the armchair as a support and caught sight of the white scar on his hand, reminding him of Umbridge and her detention.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
"Hey, Dobby. I think there is something you can do for me."
The elf bowed with a smile of excitement. "Anything, Harry Potter. Anything."