Author's Notes: Thanks as always to IMissPadfoot (user ID: 1133633) for beta'ing for me. Love ya hun!

Additional thanks to ReAdErWrItErWhAtEvEr, Indeffinate,Ramzes,Disco Inferno1 and turnmeawayagain for your reviews! Y'all are awesome, and I really appreciate the support you're giving me.

Chapter Seven: A horrible, all consuming, unrelenting ache.

When Morrigan awoke the next morning, she was surprised to discover she didn't have a hangover for once – maybe she was getting use to drinking so much fire whiskey.

Her first thoughts were the echo of her brother's harsh words from the day before.

'She's leaving the house to her? After everything she's done, and all the problems she's caused this family, Grandmother is leaving her house to Morrigan?'

Despite it only being ten o'clock in the morning, Morrigan already wanted to head to the bar and hunt out some alcohol. In stead, she settled for burying her head under the pillow and screaming in frustration.

After half an hour of wallowing in self pity, Morrigan got dressed and headed down to the bar to find some breakfast.

As she assumed, it was empty aside from Tom and she had her choice of any table, as she enjoyed a mug of strong black coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs.

After she'd eaten, Morrigan found herself feeling a little lost. In the six months that she'd been in England, she'd spent her time drinking herself into oblivion, or visiting her grandmother at St. Mungo's. The second option was now gone for ever, and she didn't much fancy doing the first alone. As Morrigan idly flicked through an abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet, she found herself wondering where Draco was and what he was doing.

Feeling bored and lonely, she decided to ask Tom at the bar if he'd seen Draco.

"Excuse me, Tom?" she called politely. "You know that guy, who always wears the hooded cloak and drinks with me most evenings? You haven't seen him around, have you?"

"Sorry, Miss, haven't seen him since he was in here with you last night," replied Tom.

Morrigan sighed, and slumped back into her chair, telling herself she was disappointed because she was bored and nothing more.

Feeling restless, she decided to go up to Draco's room and see if he was there. After knocking on the door three times, with increasingly louder bangs each time, still no reply came.

With banging on the door failing to work, Morrigan called out to see if Draco was in there, but just asleep or something.

"Draco? You in here?" she called, to which no answer came, so she shouted louder. "Draco?"

Still no one answered her, and so, not wanting to get into trouble for making so much noise, Morrigan stepped away from the door, and walked disappointedly down the corridor.

Morrigan returned back to her own room, and slumped on the bed. She supposed she could go out and look around Diagon Alley, but she'd been there a thousand times, had very little spare money, and didn't much fancy window shopping.

Waving her wand idly, she made small purple clouds of smoke float aimlessly around the room.

Then she remembered her grandmother's letter, and the deeds to the house. She supposed at least reading what Mary had left written for her wouldn't hurt, and then maybe it would help her make a decision about the house and what should be done with it.

Locking her bedroom door, and casting a charm, so that if anyone knocked on it, she wouldn't be disturbed, Morrigan pulled the letter from her travelling cloak.

Sealing the back was the familiar O'Brien family crest, bearing a Viola flower, and a crow, embossed in purple wax.

Morrigan ran her fingers lovingly over the flower petals and crow's beak on the seal, before breaking it carefully and gently unfolding the letter.

There, in the recognizable violet script, was her grandmother's hand writing. The same curling cursive, that Mary had used to write to Morrigan for many years.

The letter was dated February 21st, just three weeks after Morrigan and her family had first come to England after hearing of Mary's illness.

My Dearest Storm Crow,

As I write this, I know I'm slowly dying, and that when you finally get to read it, I'll have passed on. However, I want you to know, that my death will never stop me loving you and I'll always be alive in your heart.

I also want you to know, that no matter what happens in the weeks, and months that follow, my impending death was not your fault. As an old woman, I'm finally succumbing to the effects of later life .

It pains me to think of you left all alone, Morrigan and I know it isn't through choice of your own. I'm saddened that Sean will never accept what happened, but I hope you can come to peace with it.

You need to come to peace with it.

What happened to Lilith wasn't you fault, and you need no longer shoulder the burden of grief. If anyone really was to blame for her death, then it was me.

I left you my house, because I know only you will fully appreciate the magic it holds, and that Sean and Felicia will get much more use from what I've given them. I'm sure in time; they'll come to understand that too.

However, there is a condition, and I know you well enough to be sure that, if I request it of you, you'll keep to it.

I want you to let go, Morrigan. Stop holding onto the burden of Lilith's death, and move on with your life. Stop pushing your family away, before you lose them too.

It is my hope that, if you have the house, it will give you reason to start again and put the past behind you.

Learn to trust others, and allow yourself to love, like I know you have the ability locked deep inside your heart.

My passing will be in vain if you continue to wallow in the misery you wrongly feel you deserve.

Be at peace Morrigan, and remember that I'll always love you and be with you.

I hope that before my passing we have one last chance to be alone together, as we did when you were a child.

Until the next great adventure,

Love always,

Grams.

Dry sobs broke free from Morrigan, as she read and re-read her grandmother's final letter to her.

Everything that Mary had written, Morrigan knew to be true. However, that did not stop her feeling like the world had stopped turning.

At the mention of Lilith's death, an old wound that had never really healed burst open. It was like the mourning that Morrigan felt for the two people she loved the most had combined, into one horrible, all consuming, unrelenting ache in her heart.

Feeling the full force of her never ending grief, Morrigan let out a chilling cry and dissolved into tears that almost flooded the pillow on which she lay.

Unseen and unheard, outside a fierce wind blew, and a crow cawed.

For an unknown amount of time, Morrigan lay on her bed, letting tears stream freely from her burning eyes. Never, in nineteen years, had she allowed herself to weep like this, and the action caused some sense of release in her.

Finally, dragging herself up from the bed, Morrigan walked listlessly through the bedroom door, and down the stairs.

She hardly cared less that she had tears staining her cheeks, or that her black hair was askew. All she could think of was the burning, yet all numbing, taste of fire whiskey.

Moving shakily to the bar, she ordered a double measure of the amber liquid, and swallowed it in one gulp, before even sitting down.

As she requested a second drink, and took it with trembling hands, a familiar voice called her name.

In that instant, everything else seemed to cease existing in the room, and an angry fire consumed her.

He had no right seeking her out her, especially not after everything that had passed recently.

Slowly, Morrigan allowed her stinging eyes to move upwards towards the speaker, and her body quaked with hatred.

He looked the same as always, yet smaller, less significant and further away for some reason.

Blinking her eyes, she nodded at him and motioned that he should take the seat besides her.

"Morrigan, I think it's finally time we talked about something, we should have done many years ago," Sean said simply.

Taking a deep, rasping breath, she nodded and replied. "I quite agree."

To be continued...