Author's notes: Despite the lack of reviews, it appears from the 44 hits, that people have read the first chapter, so I decided to post chapter two. Please if you're reading, give me your thoughts. (Gin, this doesn't apply to you! I know you're busy with class!)
Thanks to IMissPadfoot (User ID: 1133633) for beta'ing for me. You're a star!
Chapter Two: The Runaway
Morrigan spent pretty much the remainder of the week in St. Mungo's, visiting her Grandmother. Her family insisted that she go to the wizarding hospital, because Mary O'Brien had taken another turn for the worst, and it was unlikely she'd live much longer. Therefore, the 150- year- old witch, asked to see all her grandchildren as soon as possible.
Sean and Felicia had already been at the ward night and day with their parents. So, it was only Morrigan's presence that was needed. However, getting her there was easier said than done. The raven-haired young woman hated hospitals almost more than she disliked strange places, so for her to be in a strange hospital, was like hell on earth.
Isabella and Connor O'Brien found their eldest daughter asleep, and hungover, in her room at the Leaky Cauldron. After some pepper-up potion - and a lot of persuasion - Morrigan got dressed and Apparated to St. Mungo's with her parents
The wizarding hospital was pretty much how Morrigan imagined it would be; cold and clinical. Her Grandmother's ward was a little nicer though, decorated in soothing colours, with relaxing paintings of witches and wizards hanging on the walls. The ward comprised of four large beds – each housing an elderly patient – a cupboard for their belongings, and soft chairs for their visiting families.
When Morrigan and her parents arrived, Sean and Felicia were already crowded around Mary. As Morrigan approached, the siblings made way for their sister, and Mary smiled broadly at her.
"My little 'Storm Crow'," said the old woman affectionately, using the young woman's childhood nickname, "Come and sit with your old Grams."
Morrigan shuffled forwards, and perched on the side of the bed. Inhaling the familiar scent of sage that always accompanied her Grandmother, the young woman was taken back to her childhood.
She'd always been close to Mary, even though they lived in different countries. Her father's mother had often sent Morrigan long letters and sweets filled packages to her eldest Granddaughter over the years, and Morrigan fondly remembered endless summers spent in Mary's home.
In addition to her dislike of hospitals, that was the main reason Morrigan had been so afraid of visiting her Grandmother. It broke the raven-haired woman's heart to now see Mary looking so old and frail.
Shaking the memories from her head, Morrigan looked at the old woman sitting before her. Despite the grey now consuming her once shimmering black hair, and the new lines of age that had appeared on her face since that last time they'd seen each other, Mary still had a twinkle in her green eyes that held untold secrets.
"Oh Grams," said Morrigan, in no more than a whisper, before embracing Mary.
Suddenly, everyone else in the room ceased to exist, and somehow, Mary and Morrigan were alone together.
Both now appeared younger, as the child sat in the woman's comforting arms. In addition, they were no longer in the hospital ward, but a old house, with gilded furnisher, and the smell of sage surrounding them.
"Tell me, what have you been doing for all these years? When you never wrote to me or visited me," asked Mary, the illusion causing her voice to be as fresh as her enchanted face.
"I've been busy, Grams," Morrigan replied, her own voice now sounding childish and innocent like it once had. "I've been at school, working hard just like you taught me to."
"Working too hard to even spend the summer with me?" questioned Mary.
"I'm sorry, Grams. I told you, I was busy," whispered the child in reply, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. "I wanted to see you, I really did. It's just with school, and the war going on over here, well it was hard for me to get a chance."
"Oh yes, that," said Mary with a frown. "I suppose you heard all about that Potter boy and the Dark Lord, then?"
"I saw him in the Daily Prophet yesterday, actually," replied Morrigan, her voice suddenly sounding older.
"Little upstart, that's what he is. Who does he think he is? Saving the world. We don't need saving, do we Storm Crow? No, we just want to be left alone," mumbled Mary, more to herself than anyone else.
Without warning the illusion faded, and they were back in the ward at St. Mungo's. Mary's eyes rolled back, and her head lolled to one side.
Morrigan jumped off the bed and hurried backwards, as her family crowded around Mary.
Connor looked concerned for his mother, with Isabella holding onto her husband's arm for support. Felicia had rushed to fetch a Healer, but Sean looked at his sister accusingly.
"What did you do Morrigan?" he asked through narrowed eyes. "She's been just fine for days before you came. You always did have a habit of causing trouble wherever you went."
"I...but...nothing," Morrigan stuttered, tears stinting her eyes. "We were just talking, that's all."
Sean merely shook his head, and turned to his Grandmother. As Felicia came in with the Healer, Morrigan could take no more and rushed from the room.
Running out into the streets of London, Morrigan Disapparated away as quickly as possible. The only place she knew in England, aside from St. Mungo's and her Grandmother's house in Northern Ireland, was Diagon Alley, which is where Morrigan found herself.
Not wanting to return to the Leaky Cauldron, where she'd probably only have Tom the barman for company, Morrigan strolled along the wizarding high street.
It was relatively busy for a weekday afternoon, with Hogwarts students still on summer vacation from school.
With nothing better to do with her time, and needing a distraction from what had just happened in the hospital, Morrigan wondered into Flourish & Blotts.
The scent of new parchment filled her nose, and Morrigan's eyes widened in awe. Despite visiting the book shop on numerous occasions, it's stock never ceased to amaze her.
As a lover of all things literature, Morrigan always enjoyed looking through British spell books whenever she visited England. Although the basis of magic was the same in any country, the slight cultural differences always fascinated her.
Without the desire, or money, to purchase anything, Morrigan merely browsed the books on the shelves. She took particular interest in The Standard book of spells: Grade Two, comparing how Hogwarts text differed from her own school books.
When it seemed as though the shop keeper was getting tired of the browsing customer, Morrigan decided it might be wise to buy something, before she was thrown out. Checking her purse, she saw she didn't have much money left, and just brought that day's copy of the Daily Prophet
Taking the newspaper, Morrigan strolled along to the newly opened Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and ordered herself a raspberry sundae, to eat as she read.
Turing to the front page, Morrigan saw the headline informing that Kingsley Shackbolt had been made permanent Minister of Magic. Not really caring about the British wizarding government – as she hoped she'd be back in Italy soon - Morrigan idly flicked through a couple of pages.
On the twelfth page, a small caption caught her eye.
Lucius Malfoy cleared of all charges, but son still missing.
For some reason, the name seemed oddly familiar to Morrigan, so she read the article.
Former Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy (pictured above), has been cleared of all charges by the Ministry of Magic.
Malfoy, was charged, but then acquitted, of Death Eater activity, following Voldemort's downfall at the hands of hero Harry Potter.
In a shock move, Malfoy was discharged of any sentence by the Minister of Magic himself.
Shacklebolt claiming that, despite tough sentences for former Death Eaters, evidence was given that Malfoy had turned against Voldemort before the Dark Lord's downfall.
However, in light of no source for this evidence, it could be suggested that Malfoy's large fortune had something to do with his acquittal.
Now free of any criminal implications against him, Malfoy and wife Narcissa, are still searching for their only son, Draco.
The young man (pictured below at Hogwarts), hasn't been seen since Voldemort's downfall in July. His whereabouts are still unknown, and it's unclear if he has been attacked by rogue Voldemort supporters, or has simply gone into hiding.
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are cited to have said they're very worried about their son's current location, and appeal to anyone with knowledge of his whereabouts to contact the Daily Prophet immediately.
Morrigan's eyes drifted to the two pictures featured in the article, both of which were moving wizard pictures.
The first showed a haughty, proud looking man, in his late forties. He had gleaming white blonde hair, streaming down his shoulders, and cold grey eyes.
Just looking at the angular features of the man, Morrigan was pretty sure she knew who he was. However, she looked to the second picture for conformation.
As she suspected, that one portrayed a boy in his late teens, with the same white blonde hair, and grey eyes as his father. However, his appearance looked more clean and groomed, than when Morrigan had seen him most recently.
In the picture, Draco's hair was just reaching below his jaw, and he appeared clean shaven. Morrigan remembered that the man who had brought her drinks in the Leaky Cauldron had unkempt, shoulder length hair, and a shadow of stubble on his face. Despite the differences, however, she was certain they were the same person.