A/N: So I guess I was full of it when I said this one would take a while. This chapter showcases a few of Morgana's flaws as well as some of her strong points. I had this idea of using the Blitz as a plot point, but it turns out it didn't really start until about September 7 from what I could tell. Oh well.

Flower of Life

The Blitz didn't begin before Morgana set off to Hogwarts. Though she did hear of bombings on strategic targets beginning that had made her very worried, the widespread bombings she had been worried about never happened in the weeks leading up to September 1st, 1940. Instead, she found herself ushered to King's Cross station by a distinctly worried-looking Ms. Pierce on that very day, and before long she had walked through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 to find herself on Platform 9 and 3/4s.

She was early, so while there were people about it wasn't overly crowded quite yet. The Hogwarts Express was a beautiful red locomotive just as she remembered it being described, and she took a few moments to admire it before she was rudely pecked in the side of the head.

"Heyy, Blackjack!" She moved her familiar's beak away from her head with her finger and pouted at him. "I just like trains, okay?"

Blackjack eyed her judgingly with the one eye that was facing her. "Fiiiine, we'll just board the thing. Stupid fun polic- Oww!" She moved the crow's beak away from her head again and hurriedly headed onto the train with her trunk, not wanting to irritate her annoying bird further.

Once she found an empty compartment for herself around the middle of the train and sat down, Blackjack hopped off of her shoulder to perch on an armrest and look at her as Morgana casually levitated her school trunk up into the overhead storage. Morgana looked back at the crow.

"Could you have maybe been a little less rough with me? Think I might be bleeding…" She carefully felt around where she'd been pecked at as the bird watched her in amusement, before pulling her hands away and finding them clean and bloodless. She sighed. "Fine, I guess you were oh-so-gentle."

She glared at the smug-looking bird. "Butthole." The bird glared back.

After a several second glaredown, Morgana huffed and turned away before levitating a book down from her trunk and beginning to read about first year transfiguration.

Several minutes later, the door to the compartment slid open and a plain-looking brown haired girl looked in as Morgana looked up at her. "Um, hi. Do you mind if I join you?"

Morgana shrugged. "Sure, I'm just reading. Feel free." She waved her hand vaguely at the seats across from her before going back to her book. It was interesting, but seemed rather simplistic. That made sense of course, it was a first year text after all. The other books had been just like it in that regard and she'd saved the Transfiguration textbook for last as a sort of treat for making her way through all the other books.

With what she had read so far, she was fairly confident that she would have the first year curriculum down way ahead of schedule. The curriculum was made for children who were beginners at magic, not whatever she was at this point. Yes, she would likely be done with the first year curriculum before the month was out at her estimation.

The girl across from her cleared her throat and Morgana glanced up at her. "Yes?"

"Are you also a first year? I think that's the transfiguration book at least…" The girl sounded a little nervous, and looked like it too.

"Yes, I am. That's why I'm reading the book." Morgana stared at her for a few seconds, watching the other girl wither slightly under her look before smiling. "I'm looking forward to learning more about magic with you. I'm Morgana."

"Oh! I'm Charity, Charity Burbage! It's nice to meet you Morgana."

Morgana nodded at the other girl before returning her gaze to her book. That was enough socialization for now, she hoped. Considering the other girl was rummaging around in her trunk before pulling out the same book she was reading, she was fairly sure she was right. The name Burbage sounded familiar though… She'd figure it out later.

~FoL~

"Abbott, Henry!" The short blonde boy was swiftly sorted into "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Black, Orion!" Dumbledore called out, and Morgana's eyes followed the boy as he walked up to the sorting hat and was almost immediately sorted into "SLYTHERIN!"

It was strange, she could swear she'd seen him somewhere before, he was oddly familiar.

Her musings were interrupted by a loud "Burbage, Charity!"

Morgana gave the girl she'd met on the train a reassuring smile before the hat fell over Charity's eyes and the girl was sorted into "RAVENCLAW!" after a few short seconds.

"Crouch, Bartemius!" Morgana looked at the boy in surprise as he walked up to the sorting hat. She honestly hadn't expected him to be in her year. She was very unsurprised however to see the boy sorted into "RAVENCLAW!"

"Fata, Morgana!" Her name was met with a slight quieting of the hall as some of the wizard-raised students murmured amongst each other. Morgana herself studiously ignored the reaction her name had garnered and walked up to the stool, giving Dumbledore a friendly smile as he dropped the hat onto her head.

"My, my. You are quite an interesting one, you know that? What exactly have you done to your mind?" Morgana froze on the stool, panicking a little bit. 'Uhhh, what do you mean?' "Your old memories of course. Though, I don't know if it's quite accurate to call them yours anymore after you've released your hold on them."

Her panic rose at the confirmation that the hat could see her hidden memories. 'Um, listen, I can explain-' "There is no need to, girl. I am not here to judge your morals, and I can't tell anyone about what I see in your mind anyways. It was a part of sacrifice in the ritual that made me as I am. More importantly, I thought I'd give you a warning about your methods. As ingenious as it is, hiding your memories in the way you do makes them susceptible to being accidentally overwritten by new memories. Now, on to your sorting, we don't have all day to chat."

As Morgana calmed down and thought about the ramifications of what the hat had told her about her brand of mind magic, the hat began its work on sorting her. "You are a determined girl, but not a particularly brave one. Gryfinndor is certainly out." She felt a mild flash of indignation, before she reasoned that the hat wasn't exactly wrong. She could be brave if necessary, but it was hardly a defining trait of hers.

"You are rather intelligent, but you lack any real interest in being studious in the way Rowena would have preferred. You're more of the type to devour information and move on than really take the time to digest it, unless you're particularly interested that is. Ravenclaw would work well enough for you, but you'll be better off elsewhere." She didn't have much of a reaction to that one, she knew her studying habits weren't exactly scholarly in nature.

"You are more than willing to work hard to pursue a goal, and you are certainly a very loyal person, but only to people you personally care about, of which there are none in this world as of now. Your motivations for working hard and being loyal are primarily motivated by your own self-interest, and that is not something that Helga would have been looking for in a student." She frowned slightly at this, she wouldn't have called herself self-motivated in her loyalties. The hat's criticisms had some merit though, she supposed, she'd have to think more on it.

"Finally, the house that suits you best, your ambition will change everything if you can manage to achieve it, and you are certainly not lacking in the cleverness Salazar found so entertaining. Yes, you will do well in SLYTHERIN!" The hat's declaration was met with a polite clap from the house of snakes, and Morgana calmly walked over to the table to sit down.

The rest of the sorting came and went as Morgana was busy thinking about what the hat had told her before sorting her and what she should do about it. Many of her previous life's memories were relatively useless and served little to no real purpose for her. The life of a trauma ridden muggle in the twenty first century had little information of great value to her in a time that was eighty years removed from the last memories her previous life had experienced. Those less valuable memories could be left to get overwritten eventually, but some others had value to her.

She would have to restore a reasonable amount of the memories, specifically the ones that had to do with politics, WW2 history, and the canon of Harry Potter. Restoring any more than those would likely make it too difficult to hide the memories on short notice. With a nod to herself, she reached into her mind and restored the relevant memories to working order just before the welcoming feast appeared on the Great Hall's plates.

She blinked a few times at the food suddenly in front of her, apparently she'd been musing to herself throughout the whole sorting and any speech the headmaster may have given. Her eyes scanned the food laid out on the table in interest, before she reached out to grab herself a portion of roast duck.

As she enjoyed the food that the Hogwarts elves had prepared at a relaxed pace, she thought to herself that it was even better than had been described in the books. She honestly wasn't sure she could go back to the sort of gruel she'd dealt with at the orphanage after this.

~FoL~

Morgana had gotten rather lucky with her sorting from her point of view honestly. Of the more than twenty girls sorted in her year, only two had been sorted into Slytherin house. This was a rather sharp contrast to the boys, of which more than ten of the over thirty boys had ended up being sorted into the house of snakes.

Unfortunately, she had decided that she hadn't been quite as lucky with who her new roommate would be.

"Why so quiet, mudblood?" The other girl was grinning hatefully at her from the other bed in the room.

Morgana sighed, before lazily turning her gaze to the other girl. "What do I have to say to someone as pathetic as you?" A smile grew across her face as the other girl's expression grew more angry than hateful.

"Pathetic? You're the two-knut mudblood here, not me."

Morgana turned her gaze from the girl to her familiar, who was preening his black feathers atop the modest perch she'd found for him when she'd been at Magical Menagerie. It was a purposeful slight, implying that the other girl was so far beneath her that she didn't even need to pay her any attention as she talked with her. "Do you even know what really matters in this world?"

The girl scoffed. "As if you would know what matters in our world, mudblood."

Morgana turned her gaze back onto the other girl with an amused smile. "Of course I do, after all it is what you were pathetically trying to establish with this little conversation. Power is what matters…" Morgana's smile widened into a malicious grin as she let the full weight of her magic out to spread into the room, causing various pieces of furniture throughout the room to rattle and in some cases levitate off of the ground, including the bed the other girl was sitting on. "And I'll always have that over you, girl." She reigned in her magic and the furniture in the room settled on the ground with a 'thunk' as her grin shrank back into a small, but still mocking smile. "Now, what was your name again?"

The girl took a few seconds to recover from her shock at what Morgana's magic had done to the room, and seemed to completely miss Morgana's snub for what it was. "I- Um, I am Evelyn Rosier." After a couple of seconds she seemed to realize the snub and weakly glared at Morgana as she followed up. "And you had better not forget it again, mudblood."

Morgana let out a quiet laugh of amusement, before closing her bed curtains on the side of the bed the other girl was in the direction of with a casual application of telekinesis.

With the childish power play over with, Morgana turned her attention to the transfiguration textbook that she was working on finishing.

~FoL~

Most of the classes were rather boring for her, it turned out. Apparently practicing and perfecting all the magic the professors were planning to teach them before going to the lessons had that effect, who knew? At least her preparation earned her some house points, as meaningless as those were beyond the goodwill of her classmates. Those practical wand-waving classes weren't the only classes the school had to offer though.

There was also History of Magic, which was far more boring than what was described in the books with Binns teaching it. She got more out of reading the textbook than she had from listening to the ghost drone on. She decided after the first lesson that she would use the class for study time in the future. It was a shame really, she was fond of history.

There was Herbology, which was mildly interesting and honestly pretty therapeutic to engage with. She'd always wanted to try out gardening, and it turned out that it was every bit as relaxing as she'd expected. For now, at least. She was sure it would get less peaceful when they started dealing with more dangerous and odd plants.

The last of the core classes was the most interesting for her to engage with by far. Potions, taught by her own head of house in one Professor Slughorn.

She started the class as usual by sitting next to Evelyn and silently daring the girl to go find a new partner. The girl never did, it turns out that she didn't want to snub the dangerous-seeming girl she slept ten feet away from any more than she already had. The girl accepted her place as Morgana's potions partner with only a slight glare.

Slughorn was already in the classroom at the front behind his desk, and he smiled across the room at them when he noticed his two first year girls sitting together. He was rather portly as he had been described in the book, but less so than she would have expected. Perhaps that would change in the future. The man was a bit short, but not overly so, around 5'6" if she had to guess.

He was also rather young, which had been rather surprising to her but probably shouldn't have been. He looked around his mid thirties, with short and slightly curly blonde hair and friendly light green eyes. He was actually mildly handsome, and had a very open and friendly look about him that certainly helped explain how he had and would draw so many powerful and influential people to himself outside of just the use of his influence as a teacher.

Once everyone had filed into the class and found their seats, Slughorn stood and spread his arms wide in greeting. "Welcome, everyone, to your first potions class of many here at Hogwarts! Some of you will stay longer than others in your years here, but I will ensure that all of you leave here with some useful knowledge to apply to your lives." As he spoke, the portly professor walked over to a standing blackboard to the right of his desk.

"And what better way to start teaching you that sort of thing than this!" He flipped the standing blackboard to reveal the other side of it. At the top of the board was 'Boil Cure Potion' with the instructions written beneath it with little facts and extra tidbits of information written on either side of the directions. "Now, who can tell me why this particular potion may be useful to many of those among us in the future?"

After a few seconds of waiting, Morgana raised her hand when she saw that no one else seemed to know.

"Yes, Miss Fata! What do you think the reason might be?"

Morgana smiled slightly. "Well, sir. Many of the students here will begin getting pimples in a year or three when they start experiencing puberty. I imagine the boil cure potion would be very useful for solving that problem." A few students seemed embarrassed at the mention of puberty, while a couple others simply nodded thoughtfully at the idea.

"Exactly right Miss Fata, five points to Slytherin. I must say, it seems likely you'll excel every bit as much as my colleagues have been suggesting to me." He gave her a wink and a friendly smile as he buttered her up, seems he already had his eye on her for his little club.

"We'll have to see, sir. I think I may struggle in the ingredient preparation part of your class." She'd never been good at cutting exact measurements when she'd cooked in the memories she remembered of her first life. She hadn't tried yet in this life though so perhaps this body would find it more natural, she'd have to see.

"Nonsense, anyone can learn that with enough effort. But, back to the boil cure potion. As Miss Fata said, it is particularly useful for some of the symptoms you might experience during puberty, but it is also useful for any other experience you may have with boils. Just as an example, it is a quick and easy cure for the pimple jinx. Now, we will not be actually making the potion today. That will be the next lesson's goal. Today we will be practicing just what Miss Fata seems concerned about: ingredient preparation. Specifically the ingredient preparation required for the boil cure potion."

The rest of the lesson went about as well as it had begun, expertly taught with a certain degree of favoritism for students Slughorn had a particular interest in. Both herself and Evelyn Rosier were included in this group of students, so she found herself chatting quite a bit with the professor as he taught her the specifics on how to go about crushing snake fangs into powder and slice pungous onions evenly. It was a very easy first lesson, but Slughorn seemed very intent on making sure his students learned how to prepare ingredients perfectly before he would allow them to work at a cauldron, and Morgana was of the opinion that that was exceedingly reasonable and a far better practice than just throwing them into the deep end as his successor would go on to do with his students.

~FoL~

When Morgana finished working her way through the first year curriculum's magic, it was the 23rd of September. Her first instinct for continuing her studies had been to run off to the Room of Requirement, but she'd immediately stamped out that idea. She didn't need anyone wondering what she was doing in that area of the castle, and she certainly didn't need anyone else finding the Room of Requirement. No, there was an equally effective option available with little to no difficulty: the library.

Hogwarts' library contained all of the required books for her to begin working on the second year of magic in the unrestricted area, and she saw no reason not to make use of it. Everyone who cared already knew she was working ahead at this point, she made no effort to hide the ease with which she was able to use the magic the school required of first years.

The first year of Hogwarts was primarily meant to acclimate the students to using magic and help them get a feel for and grow the strength of their own magic.

Morgana had been experimenting with and growing her control over her magic since she was six, which gave her a massive advantage over her fellow students and allowed her to tear through the early curriculum with ease.

She'd wondered why pureblood children didn't learn magic as early as she did, but it turned out that most children didn't have the emotional control required to gain full control over their magic at the age she had done so and that was why parents tended to allow their children to go without extensive or any practical instruction on magic prior to Hogwarts.

There were exceptions of course, people like herself and one Tom Riddle. She hadn't had any real interactions with the older boy yet, but she had noticed him eyeing the second year book on charms she'd checked out as she made her way through the common room to her dorm.

The boy was often in the common room with his small group of friends, or allies, whatever he considered them, reading some advanced book or another while occasionally nodding along to what the other boys were saying. She'd gotten a good look at one of the books he was reading, a fifth year book on transfiguration at the start of his third year was rather impressive. Perhaps he thought the same of her second year charms book, or maybe he thought she was getting ahead of herself.

It didn't matter, she would outdo the boy and make a mockery of his genius in time.