Chapter 15 - Morgana and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Morgana couldn't help it, she screamed as Arthur seemed to blink out of existence, but she was soon drowned out by the cacophony of the rest of the stadium. Hers was not the only voice reacting to what had just happened. She reached out to grab Merlin, to shake him, to demand to know what just happened - because this could only have been his doing - but he was not by her side where he had been a moment ago, and her hand grasped empty air.

Beneath her panic, Morgana hoped and prayed that this was a good thing. If both Merlin and Arthur had vanished from where they had just been then it must be connected, it must simply be yet another impossible thing for Emrys to achieve.

Suddenly the wall of sound turned into gasps and other noises of relief. And so when Morgana heard a stray, "Thank Merlin," for the first time she found herself agreeing whole-heartedly with the sentiment.

Now somewhat assured that she would not be confronted with the sight of her brother's flattened body, Morgana dared to look down from the railings. She couldn't see much, what with the rest of the Gryffindor team crowded around the figure on the grass. But she did see the singular figure not in quidditch uniform, right at the centre of the huddle, who's black hair she could see from this distance. She had a rather good idea of who that might be.

With a relieved sigh that everything had worked out as it should, Morgana allowed the throngs of other students to push their way in front of her, trying to get a better view at the aftermath of all the excitement. And instead, she made her way towards the stairs, seeing as she couldn't teleport like some people apparently could.

"Come on, Potter," she added as an afterthought, pulling him along with her. She could throw him at Merlin to distract him from where she had no doubt he would be hovering over her brother's shoulder. She was certain Arthur would appreciate the reprieve.

"What just happened?" he asked, confused, following along unquestioningly. Someone should probably teach him not to just follow someone when they pulled him in a random direction against his will. But that was a problem for another day. And certainly not her problem at any rate.

"Emrys happened," she answered him bluntly, storming down the frankly stupid amount of stairs.

". . . But Merlin was just standing right next to us."

"Yes, and now he's not," she said impatiently. "He's Emrys, he just does things like this apparently," she sighed. For once, it was easy to keep her bitterness and jealousy over Merlin's abilities out of her voice. This time, his impossible nature had worked in her favour. She was sure she'd be back to cursing his name in due time, but for now she allowed herself to be grateful.

They charged down the rest of the steps in silence. Well, outward silence at the very least. Morgana's head, however, would not shut up.

Rationality and paranoia warred with each other.

She could not get the image of Arthur's body falling through the sky out of her mind. But then there was Merlin. And destiny apparently. Merlin and Arthur, Emrys and the Once and Future King, they were meant to accomplish more than just this. Death by quidditch accident was not exactly one for the legends.

Which meant Arthur had to be okay. Though, she could hardly believe she was putting her hope in fate of all things.

"Arthur!" she shouted, as they finally reached the pitch, not bothering to restrain herself from running towards the huddle of Gryffindors.

"Get lost, snake!" A voice derided from above her, stepping into her path. "Haven't your lot done enough?"

Her wand was in her hand before the buffon even had a chance to blink. She stepped closer and placed it right at his chest, not hesitating to meet his eyes, even as her head had to crane upwards to do so. "Get out of my way," she demanded, in the same tone she had once used to challenge a King.

The boy scoffed and lifted his hand to simply bat away her wand, and Morgana longed for the days when she could use such a gesture to send men flying across rooms and out of her way.

Instead, she simply had to cast quicker than he could move. "Petrificus Totalus!" she hissed, not even watching to see his body stiffen and fall to the ground. She stepped around him, muttering, "Come on, Potter."

There was a beat of silence, and then, "Blimey, remind me not to get on your bad side," he said from behind her, slightly breathless. She chose to believe it was from awe rather than him struggling to keep up with her quick pace across the field.

She ignored the comment. She was a High Priestess of the Old Religion, she may not have the same magical power she once possessed, but she could still curse an unarmed teenager.

Finally she got to the mass of quidditch players and professors crowding around her brother. Merlin spotted her first.

"Morgana he's fine," he assured quickly, ducking out of the huddle to meet her.

"I'd like to see that for myself, thank you," she told him, not even stopping before brushing past him and shoving her way past the last few strangers blocking her path.

"Arthur, she breathed, in a sigh of relief at seeing him conscious, and even sat up. She almost felt herself sway with relief. She had trusted in Merlin of course, and been quite sure of his success in saving her brother, but the sight of him alive and well still almost brought her to her knees.

She realised suddenly that she had been imagining Arthur as she last saw him, dying from a sword wound in a battle she had instigated. A wound that, she was now realising, she had no idea if he ever survived. Merlin had run her through with his own sword forged in a dragon's breath, killing her on his quest to save Arthur's life. She wondered, absently, if she and her brother died the same death on the same day - both slain with a dragon-forged blade, by a traitor they once trusted with their life.

"Don't say I told you so," Arthur said, suddenly jarring her out of her morbid thoughts, glaring up at her from the ground.

She found an old mask quickly falling over her, a playful smirk on her face. It was an act she had once used to mask her hatred of Arthur and his father, and now she used that same act to mask her worry and her guilt.

"Don't worry, Arthur. I'll wait until we're sure your mind isn't addled before I say 'I told you so.' I should hate for you to forget it."

He huffed, as though frustrated, but there was a smile on his face. And so Morgana let some of her own happiness at his safety bleed through. The sight of him alive, well, and joking around, thawed some of her previous horror.

"If we can get back on topic," the headmaster interrupted - and Morgana noticed for the first time that quite a few of the Professors had reached the ground since she'd last glimpsed the field from the stands. She looked up to see a (fake) grandfatherly smile on the headmaster's face as he turned back towards her brother. "You do not remember meeting the ground, Mister Pendragon?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I was falling, trying to get a hold of my wand, though I have no idea what spell I could have possibly cast to catch myself . . . and between one breath and the next I was perfectly safe on the ground. I don't remember landing, and certainly not with any of the force I should have."

"Most peculiar," the headmaster remarked, and Morgana did not even attempt to hide the roll of her eyes.

"Something you'd like to add, Miss Le Fay?" he asked.

"It was Merlin," she stated simply, her tone implying how stupid they were not to have drawn such a clear conclusion. "Obviously."

"Now, my dear," he chastened, causing Morgana to simply glare at the old man. "We cannot discount Mister Pendragon's own accidental magic. He is not too old for it to act out in such a life-threatening situation."

"Of course not, dear headmaster," she sneered, "But that explanation doesn't account for Merlin miraculously disappearing from my side in the stands and onto the ground beside Arthur. Especially since everyone knows you can't apparate on Hogwarts's ground. Besides all that, I asked Merlin to look out for Arthur today."

"And what inspired you to request such a thing?" he asked. The question was entirely innocent but Morgana didn't trust this old man one wick. She would not have him finding out about her nightmares.

"Morgana saw -" Arthur began.

"I saw," she interrupted, "That Harry Potter broke his arm practising with the Weasley twins." She scrambled quickly for a greater excuse. Injury during school sports was hardly uncommon. Why, if Arthur had gone to Etton like Uther had wanted, he'd have surely gotten a rugby injury at one point or another.

"Our father already has great mistrust in how you run this school, headmaster," she reminded him, thinking fast, but keeping her tone calm. "He should hate to hear of his only son taking an injury in a school-sanctioned sport. I fear that should we try his patience much more, he may simply pull us from the school altogether."

It was a good thing that she was such an accomplished liar. Spend a few years in a tyrant's court, where the truth would result in death, and one becomes quite adept at using half-truths and twisting them to their purpose. Morgana knew how to play this game. Her voice held nothing but confidence and her eyes never wavered from the headmaster's.

She only hoped that Arthur was not ruining her plan with whatever facial expression he was pulling. But she could not look to check, else that would surely give her away.

"I see," the headmaster said, and Morgana's eyes narrowed at his unconvinced tone. "I shall endeavour to speak to Mister Emrys then, but perhaps we ought to reconvene inside. And I think it best we get Mister Pendragon seen by Madame Pomfrey, just in case."

"But the match isn't over!" One of the Gryffindors opposed.

"I'm afraid that in the distraction of Mister Pendragon's fall, the Slytherin seeker managed to catch the snitch," Madame Hooch informed them.

Morgana ignored the general outcry, and refrained from informing them that even if the game was not over, they were down another player anyhow, and she doubted they had another reserve to cover the absence of their reserve player.

She offered a hand to her brother, glaring at him when he hesitated, his pride not letting him be helped up by a girl. In the end though, he knew what was good for him, and merely huffed silently before taking the offered hand. Morgana was tempted to drop him back on his arse for his attitude, though.

As he stood, and the group started walking back towards the castle, she looped her arm through his out of pure habit, only realising it was odd when Arthur shot her a questioning look. This was not the fifth century. Men did not escort ladies on their arm anymore, and had not done so for quite some time. While they may still be posh in this lifetime, they were not that posh. Still, she did not acknowledge his unspoken question, since she had no explanation to give him.

"Why didn't you tell Professor Dumbledor the truth?" he asked quietly, apparently eager to question her for something.

She internally applauded that Arthur at least had the discretion to ask the question under his breath. "You saw how he was about Snape - I don't trust him," she explained simply.

"Alright, so he's a terrible judge of character," he agreed. "But seeing the future in your dreams is obviously magical. You should tell at least one professor about it," he urged.

And he wasn't exactly wrong, Morgana thought. She remembered how much her dreams had terrified her in Camelot, though she wondered now if that was simply because they were magic in Camelot, or if the prospect of dreaming the future would have always been such a terrifying prospect?

But it was different now. Morgana knew she was a Seer - probably one of the most powerful to ever live. And, frankly, she could only feel joy at the return of her gifts. It was not the full power she had once had at her disposal, but it was a small comfort. Besides, it had allowed her to ensure Arthur's protection. Now she finally saw her visions for what they were. A gift.

"Oh, relax," she brushed him off. "If you paid any attention then you would know that Divination is one of our electives for next year. I'm sure I'll find out anything I need to know then."

She doubted there would be much that they could teach her. If a High Priestess had not been able to help her to control her visions, then this modern day weakling would likely fare no better. Still, she would give a chance for modern advancements to prove themselves. So much had been discovered and invented between her lifetimes, that she could allow the possibility for some intellectual advancement in magic, even if the general power had decreased drastically.

"Then why not tell them now, if they'll find out next year anyway?"

"Because, if I wait until next year I will be able to see what is expected in terms of divination, and whether or not we are outliers."

"We?" he asked, confused.

"Did you or did you not predict Nimueh's arrival at our school?" she whispered harshly, remembering her own jealousy at the thought of her brother stealing her abilities.

"You can't think -"

"Mister Jeffries!" came the startled cry, as the whole group came to an abrupt stop.

"Fuck . . ." she whispered, suddenly remembering the Gryffindor she had cursed.

The Professors turned to the students trailing behind them. "Who is responsible for this?!" Madame Hooch demanded loudly.

The Gryffindor players quickly ruled themselves out, and then Merlin. "Emrys was already on the ground when the rest of us landed, and he was close to Pendragon the rest of the time. Jeffries wandered off just before they got here," one of them said with a nod to her and then Harry.

The two of them quickly became the subject of scrutiny, and she saw Merlin get ready to throw another fit to defend his helpless little brother.

Under the intense stares, Harry quickly folded and simply pointed at her, a guilty expression on his face.

"Traitor!" she declared, whipping her head around to glare at him. "What happened to not wanting to get on my bad side?"

Potter rolled his eyes, the snarky little thing. "He would have just told them what happened as soon as the spell wore off," he reasoned.

"At which point it's his word against mine, and you back me up!" She said, frustrated. "Honestly, it's like you know nothing," she sighed.

"Miss Le Fay, what is the meaning of this?" the headmaster asked loudly, over her hushed debate with Potter.

Ugh.

She squared her shoulders. "I had just watched my brother fall out of the sky, and he refused to let me by -" she bit out, throwing a disgusted glance in the Gryffindor's direction, "- even after I asked politely. I was not going to waste my time arguing when I didn't even know if Arthur was dead or alive." She stared that old man in the eyes and glared. "So I resolved the situation as swiftly and as peacefully as I was able," she finished with a blatantly insincere smile.

"Cursing your fellow students is not a peaceful resolution," he scolded, and she rolled her eyes.

"He's not hurt or maimed. He doesn't have so much as a scratch on him. He probably got more beaten up in the game than he did at the end of my wand," she argued tiredly. "All I did was stop him from blocking my way."

The professors exchanged dubious looks and Morgana snapped.

She had slept terribly last night, unable to get any rest, her vision of Arthur falling to his death just replaying whenever she had closed her eyes. And then she had had to actually live through the game - constantly on edge, just waiting for the worst to happen. And it had happened. She had watched her brother, her family, fall out of the sky. She had watched him blink out of existence. And then she had been forced to fight her way to get to him.

She would not let them make her ashamed of her actions when she had spent all day fighting for Arthur's survival.

"Another student transfigured Arthur's bat into a snake earlier today, endangering his life!" she reminded them angrily. Because in the headmaster's little quest to find out how Arthur's life was saved, he didn't seem to care one whit about who had put it in danger.

"And you haven't said a word on that!" she continued. "And yet you want to scold me for simply immobilising someone who tried to blame me for that outcome? Then fine!" she yelled, "Take points, put me in detention, whatever. But I'm telling you right now that I don't regret what I did for a second, and I wouldn't so much as blink at doing it again!"

And with that, she stormed off.

Albus didn't know what to make of this mess. Two of his Gryffindors put in harm's way, two Slytherins as their attackers, and a stray Hufflepuff performing unknown and potentially dangerous magic on a classmate. At that point he had decided he may as well just call all the Heads of House along with the students. There was little point excluding Fillius from the discussion, and frankly, an unbiased view may be useful.

So there they stood, Mister Jefferies looking very out of place, at least a head above the gaggle of second-years surrounding him. They had waited for the Petrificus Totalus to wear off, and had the Pendragon boy checked by Madame Pomfrey in the meantime. All the students before him were entirely unharmed, which put Albus in the mood to be a little more lenient. A mood that Miss Le Fay, and her mutinous glare, was testing.

"Now, who would like to begin?" he asked genially. He found children were often much more cooperative when they didn't feel as though they were being interrogated. It was best to let them all say their piece.

"I don't care what happens to the rest of them," Jefferies began furiously. "But she," he spat, turning his head to glare at Miss Le Fay, "Just cursed me out of nowhere."

Miss Le Fay appeared to be quite literally biting her tongue to refrain from snapping back at the fourth-year.

"Well," Severus drawled from behind him. "What have you got to say for yourself, girl." She visibly bristled at the question, and threw a look of disgust over Albus's shoulder. Well, if he had thought he was on the child's bad side, it seemed like that was nothing compared to the girl's Head of House.

"As I have already told the headmaster," she began, her tone defiant. "After he made a derisive comment due to my house, I asked him to get out of my way, and when he refused - since I didn't know if my brother was dead or alive - I chose the path of least resistance and used a harmless spell so that I might step around him."

"Harmless?" he said indignantly. "I had to lay there with my face in the dirt for like fifteen minutes!"

"Oh I'm so sorry you couldn't handle a bit of mud while I waited to see if Arthur had been flattened into the ground or not," she scoffed.

"I think what Morgana is trying to say -" Mister Pendragon cut in awkwardly.

"I can speak for myself!"

"- is that there were extenuating circumstances, headmaster. Surely you can understand that?" he asked, elbowing his sister, presumably to prompt her to stop talking. "And, of course, her usual response to conflict is absolutely not to pull her wand on a fellow student. It was simply a bad decision made in panic, and even then, she did choose a spell that wouldn't actually harm Graham."

Albus found himself nodding along. Truthfully, both children had obviously learnt a great deal from the senior Pendragon in how to speak. They both knew how to twist events into something which fit their narrative, and he was eerily reminded of watching Uther Pendragon take on the Board of Governors from a few months prior. The way the children spoke and carried themselves were far closer to what Albus was used to seeing from Pureblood heirs than the regular muggleborn and half-blood children to pass through these halls.

"There were extenuating circumstances," he allowed. "However, it is never the solution to draw your wand on your fellow student. A detention, I believe, is a suitable punishment. With Professor McGonagall -" he turned slightly to see her nod in agreement, "- since it was one of her Gryfindor's you assaulted."

Miss Le Fay did not look pleased with that response, but Albus saw Mister Jefferies nodding, looking appeased.

"And 20 points from Gryfindor, I believe, Headmaster," Professor Snape cut in, with an unflattering sneer on his face. "For Mister Graham Jeffries's comments made against Slytherin House."

"I do believe that's a little harsh, Severus," he cautioned.

"And I dare say he suffered punishment enough at the end of Miss Le Fay's wand," Fillius cut in with a chuckle.

Severus's face pulled into an even deeper scowl, but, wisely, he said nothing more.

"The two of you may go," Albus concluded, and Mister Jefferies quite quickly left towards the exit - likely wanting to get beyond the reach of Severus's stare sooner rather than later.

"I'd rather stay," Miss Le Fay cut in, with a venomous glare thrown in her fellow Slytherin's direction.

"Very well," he agreed, not eager to get into another disagreement with the young lady, and quite ready to get this business over and done with.

"Now, Mister Emrys," he began. "What to do about your rather reckless use of powerful magic?"

"I was just trying to help," the boy said, rather timidly.

"Be that as it may, there is a reason apparition is forbidden on school grounds. And while your unique circumstances allowed you to get around the anti-apparition wards, in doing so you endangered not only yourself, but your friend," he cautioned.

Le Fay scoffed. "He saved Arthur's life," she interrupted, quite rudely. "He doesn't deserve to be punished for that."

"Nonetheless," Albus corrected calmly, "Apparition, when not learned properly, can cause grievous harm. Sometimes resulting in the loss of limbs or even the loss of life should you leave behind the wrong body part. It was fool-hardy and dangerous, even if it was done with the best of intentions."

At this, Miss Le Fay outright laughed, and Albus rather regretted not forcing the issue and expelling her from his office when he had the chance. "But he didn't apparate," she objected. "He didn't overpower the anti-apparition wards, he used a different spell. You can't scold him based on the consequences of a spell he didn't use."

"She's right," Pendragon added, passionately. "Whenever Merlin's magic reacts it's always been Old magic. So he can't have been using the same spell"

"There is no way of knowing which-"

"I didn't use my wand," the boy in question cut in quietly. His voice did not shake or stutter, as Albus had seen it do on many an occasion, but it was still clear from the timid way in which he spoke that he was nervous to interrupt. He struggled to reconcile this skittish child with the boy who held the Board of Governors at wand-point just a few months prior.

"I always use my wand for the magic we're taught in class," the boy continued, rambling awkwardly. "And I don't even know how to apparate. Ever since it woke up, all of my accidental magic has been magic of the Old Religion," he swore. "I really don't really know what happened, I just wanted to help Arthur and so my magic did it. But I don't think it was whatever spell you're thinking of, headmaster, I don't know what it was, but it definitely wasn't -"

"That's alright, Merlin, dear. We believe you," Pomona said gently.

"Pomona," Albus chided gently, "We can hardly just take the boy at his word in such a serious situation. While, yes, wandless apparition would be incredibly difficult, we can all agree it is not beyond Mister Emrys's capabilities."

"Albus, please," Minerva objected, surprising Abus. "If it had been apparition we would have seen Mister Emrys appear mid-air to get Mister Pendragon before bringing them safely to the ground. You cannot apparate another person without physical contact - and even if you could, the Hogwarts wards do not allow for apparition on the grounds. It is one thing to think the boy might achieve it wandlessly, but to do so without knowing the spell, while breaking the school wards and while apparating another person without contact. It is simply ridiculous."

Pomona smiled rather cheerily at her side with this pronouncement. And Albus had to concede that the boy breaking four improbable boundaries with a single spell was perhaps one too many to be plausible.

"I see. Well then, my boy, I suppose we shall simply let you off with a warning to be more careful," Albus said graciously.

He saw Miss Le Fay open her mouth, most likely to voice yet another objection, but a swift elbow to the side from her brother got her to simply redirect her anger into a scowl in his direction instead.

That left Albus to move on to the final occupant of the room, and one who had kept surprisingly silent through the rest of this debate (though Albus would not be surprised if Severus's angry disposition had something to do with that).

"Now, Mister Black," he began. "I daresay you have some sort of explanation for your actions?"