CHAPTER 6:

WHEN ONE DOOR SHUTS, ANOTHER OPENS…

When they returned to Orkney, promising to return at a better time, Harry was in something of a foul mood. Oh, he had been expecting one of his former associates to do something like this. But he thought Ron had learned his lesson after that fiasco in his fourth year.

Yet after they returned, Morgan gently took him aside, leading him into the yard. With a gesture, she formed several dummies, all looking like Death Eaters, complete with skull masks. When he looked at her, wondering why, she sighed, before summoning a dark metal spear to her hand, and then jabbing it forward. A copy of the spear suddenly impaled one of the dummies, outlined in ethereal light, before disappearing, the dummy falling apart.

And now, he understood. Take out as much of his anger on the dummies as he wanted. Which he promptly did, firing all kinds of spells. He no longer had a wand…but his anger gave him a focus that meant he had little need of one. Dummies burned, exploded, were sliced up, pierced, and pulverised. He began to scream as he did so, each scream rising in volume as he vented his anger. The dummies reformed at Morgan's gestures, and he continued, until he bent over, coughing after one particularly loud scream of fury.

And then, Morgan came over, and gathered him into an embrace. Unbidden, he began weeping, tears trickling onto her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently, soothingly.

"I know your pain," she said quietly after some time letting him weep. "It was why I intervened during your argument with Ron, and I am sorry if I overstepped in your eyes. But I wanted to ensure that your friendship may end up being salvageable."

"…Why did he say such things?"

"Because he was hurt, and lashing out. I know…because the same thing happened with me."

Morgan then led him over to a nearby stone wall, about waist height, and sat down on it, indicating for him to do so next to her. It was so strange. She was actually a little shorter than he was, by an inch or two, yet it almost felt like she towered over him as much as Barghest did. Maybe it was her regal demeanour, or maybe he subconsciously sensed her power. Was this an inborn human instinct dating back to when the Fae walked the world?

Eventually, Morgan said, "This was when the Rain Clan was wiped out. I had a friend, Nimue. But when the armies of the Clans came to attack Orkney, we got into an argument. She argued that I should either fight to the death, or else give myself up. In truth, the armies intended to exterminate the Rain Clan, but I got into a bitter argument that my own guardian broke up. We said words that, in hindsight, we didn't truly mean, it was just the heat of the moment. I say this because the next time I saw Nimue, she told me to flee for my life, even as the life left her eyes. In truth, I might not have done so even then, had it not for my Standard History's counterpart's memories prodding me. I was forced to flee like a coward to survive, because the people I was born to save despised my very existence."

"…I'm sorry, it's not very comforting."

"…That's all right," Morgan said. "It's just some well-meant advice from your Senpai."

"…Senpai?"

Morgan chuckled sadly. "Mash told me something of herself and her life. It was her that I got the name 'Tonelico' from, and thus, Totorot used it for her books. Tonelico is the Japanese equivalent of Aesc, and Mash liked using Japanese terms and phrases. A sweet, gentle and kind girl, but strong and determined to fight. I would have brought her with me instead of leaving her in the Lostbelt, but the time loop my other half caused by sending her into the past needed to be preserved, and besides, her loyalty was to the Chaldea organisation she belonged to. A Senpai is Japanese for a senior, like someone in a higher class than you at school, or of a higher rank in an organisation. I meant it in jest, to leaven your mood."

"…It didn't work," Harry said, looking away, before deciding to add, "But thanks for trying."

"You're welcome. But I guess I intervened during that mess because…bonds are valuable. I forsook more than a few when I split myself, and then sent myself to this timeline. Do not misunderstand me, if Ron keeps striding down that path of blaming you unjustly, then 'tis better to sever ties. But I saw enough of him in your memories to know that he deserves at least one more chance. He's self-centred, lazy and entitled, true, but he did help you on a number of occasions, despite mortal peril. Saving Hermione from the Troll, the obstacle course guarding the Philosopher's Stone, helping you infiltrate the Chamber of Secrets…there's a brave young man with so much potential within him. Maybe this wake-up call will bring that potential back out. But if it doesn't…well, such is life."

Harry fell into silence after that, his emotions all awhirl. Eventually, Morgan said, "Actually, Remus had an offer for you, but after that incident, he didn't get around to telling you. While Teddy already has a godfather and a godmother in Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hermione Granger…he wished to make you another godfather to Teddy." She chuckled. "He even joked about making me Teddy's Fairy Godmother."

"…You what? Me, Teddy's godfather? But…I'm too young."

"And yet, at times, you show more maturity and wisdom than more than a few humans I have known, and who were older than you to boot. You remind me so much of Uther, it's painful. I know you are not him, Harry, you could never replace him, but you are so very like him."

Harry wondered why she brought her former flame up. Maybe she was pining for him. He hoped she would find someone else. She could do so easily with her beauty.

However, her talk with him had helped cool his temper, quenched his rage and fury. Oh, the anger was still there, but at a low simmer. He was better now, more functional, less likely to lash out at others, especially those who didn't deserve his ire.

But he wasn't sure if Morgan was right, if Ron deserved another chance. Those words Ron uttered had hurt, they cut deeply into Harry's heart. It wasn't Ron's first betrayal, and he had no way of telling if it'd be the last.

And the guilt at not being there to help was rearing its ugly head once more, awoken by Ron's words. It was irrational, he knew, as it was thanks to Snape and Umbridge he wasn't in a position to help. But he couldn't help it. The thought of Ginny dying so horribly, to say nothing of others he knew, gnawed at him. Sirius, George and Charlie and Arthur, Hagrid, Moody, Neville…even Dumbledore, for all his many grievances with the meddling old man, especially the Scarcrux (as he had taken to calling it) and the Dursleys, he didn't quite want to see dead.

"…I ran away too many times myself," Morgan said suddenly, breaking through his thoughts. "From Orkney when the army arrived, from mobs of Fae after I had saved them from the Calamities…and from my own timeline and the responsibilities of the Avalon le Fae when it got too much to bear. Even now, I wonder if I made a mistake, given what my other half became, a cruel and ruthless tyrant. If anyone between the pair of us deserves to be considered a coward, it is I. I didn't even try to save the land for the Fae, save for a few. It was because I loved the land itself of Fae Britain. Oh, I came to be friends with a few, but they were either murdered, or abandoned me. And in the end…there were those I abandoned in my turn, some for good reason, and others…well, I wish I had looked harder for Baobhan Sith, to save her from her fate."

"…If you're such a coward, Morgan, why did you bother stopping the Calamities from destroying Fae Britain?" Harry asked.

"…I'm not sure," Morgan confessed. "To some degree, I still felt that I needed to fulfil my purpose, even if it was on my terms. And I wished to defend the land I loved. Duty, perhaps, as well. That, and I knew there were innocent people who didn't deserve to die. Mostly some of the humans of the Lostbelt, but also a few Fae."

"Only some humans?" Harry asked.

"Humans can be potentially as fickle as Fae, even in this timeline, as you well know. True, they were closer to being livestock in the Lostbelt, but some gained favour with their masters and owners, and in too many cases, to do that, they had to emulate being a Fae in mindset: fickle and cruel. And I came to view saving the land itself as important. But in time, with each betrayal and setback, I began to covet Fae Britain, and resented my purpose, no, my duty as Avalon le Fae. How could I ensure redemption, when none of the Fae, even those who knew the truth, wished to atone?"

"…But…Morgan…you're a good person. At least that's what I think. You saved me, without knowing who I was. You're not this timeline's Morgan, nor are you your tyrannical self, at least I hope not. I think…while being a hero is vastly overrated, helping others is not. Even if it's just one person you help." He chuckled morosely. "While she was visiting, Hermione said I have a 'saving people thing'. I think you have one too."

"A 'saving people thing'?" There was a lengthy pause, and Harry wasn't sure whether he had offended her or not. Then, she began to chuckle, a soft and gentle thing, that devolved into maddened, braying cackles. And yet, those dissolved away into sobs, and she placed her head in her hands.

"…Morgan?" Harry asked, concerned.

But the silver-haired woman shook her head, removing her hands and looking at Harry. Despite her bloodshot eyes, despite the tears streaking down her face, she had a smile. A sad one, to be sure, but a smile all the same. "Sorry, I'm not mocking you. Once more, you remind me so much of Uther as much as myself. He had a most uncanny knack for making me laugh, even at my worst."

"I wasn't joking, Morgan, I meant every word."

"I know, and that's part of what is so perversely funny," Morgan said. "The sincerity of your words…more sincere than I have been for so long. And…in the end, you're right. I can't help myself. I doubt my other half has that impulse anymore, it seems counterproductive to being a tyrant. The most she helped was by sending my new Tam Lin to me, especially Baobhan Sith. Yes, you're right…though I will not try to save a country or the world…if I see someone who need help, I will help them. I think you, as well as Hermione, have given me something to think about."

She then stood, hopping off the wall, before turning to him. "Think of this as the price for my healing you of your curse. Be my friend. Be my anchor. Hold me back from becoming like Morgan le Fay in this timeline, or like the Lostbelt Queen my other half became. Save me from myself if need be."

That simple plea touched Harry. That he of all people could save an alternate Morgan le Fay from her own inner darkness seemed laughable, and yet…it appealed to him. True, it could still be a trick, a trap, a manipulation from her, and yet, he didn't think so. He'd known her for a week and a half, true, but he had seen her memories, read the books based on her life.

In any case, with Voldemort gone, he needed something to do than wiping Magical Britain's collective arse. And this seemed pleasant and quiet enough so far. Maybe it might lead to something more. What that was, he didn't know. But gaining new friends at least wasn't too bad…

Neither Harry nor Morgan knew it, but they were being watched from afar, from a man under a number of concealment charms, like Notice Me Nots, a Disillusionment Charm, and even an Invisibility Cloak for good measure. A pair of pitiless dark eyes narrowed in scrutiny and hatred, even as they scanned the manor with Omnioculars. Lips curled in a sneer.

Yet the owner of these features was prudent, pragmatic. Some would say cowardly, especially in light of his actions, but he rejected such appellations. Nobody had a right to judge him. He deserved to be happy, more than anyone else, especially anyone with the blood of the Marauders. If anything, they deserved to be miserable for the rest of their pathetic lives, just as he had been made miserable throughout much of his own, by so many, beginning with that pathetic sperm-donor of his.

Unfortunately, the world wasn't that kind. He'd been leashed to two masters, trying to play them off against each other, so that whatever happened in the end, he'd win. Even if it meant his death, he would ensure that Dumbledore and the Dark Lord joined him in Hell. Though if he could, he intended to live forever. Hence why he had pilfered the Flamel's prized artifact before the old goat could destroy it, and substituted it with his own poor attempts to copy their work.

He had discerned Umbridge to be the one to send the Dementors to silence Potter, so after some thought, he approached her privately. The woman was vicious and devious, and she had managed to ensure Potter's hearing was a fait accompli, while he managed to distract Dumbledore long enough to prevent the old goat from interfering. And from there, he arranged for Potter to have his little change of identity, and be cursed to not feel any kindness from anyone ever again. He'd found some of the curses in some esoteric tomes the old goat let him have. Others were of his own formulation.

As for Umbridge…well, if she blabbed, there might be problems, and his Legilimency probe had indicated she was already thinking about how to blackmail him. The thing was, blackmailers had a tendency to die in fiction, and he ensured she had the same fate in reality. He'd turned her into a toad, and drowned her in a formaldehyde solution in a specimen jar. Such was his skill in Transfiguration that she was still in a toad form in the jar in his safehouse, a trophy of one of his foes at least to savour.

But things went wrong quickly. The watcher had a tracker of his own fixed on Potter, based on Dumbledore's trinkets, but they stopped tracking him. All he knew was that Potter had ended up on Orkney, thanks to that randomised Portkey. The main curse array was linked to him, so he knew when it would be removed. It seemed that the tracker was removed, and if Potter was alive and happy, so was the curse that was meant to make him rejected by all and sundry, and that simply would not do. He couldn't check at the time because he had so many other things to worry about, and he needed to lay low until he was ready to make his move. But the main curse array was recently removed, and so he decided to risk checking why.

And now, he understood why. He'd very carefully scanned the wards around the estate, and was glad he had. They were a mixture of magecraft-created Bounded Fields, with wards that seemed to be of Fae origin. Aside from the House-Elves, most Fae had fucked off to the Reverse Side of the World, yet some clearly existed here in this part of Orkney, and had taken pity on Potter. And one of them was a powerful magic-user. He suspected it was the one Potter had just been talking to.

The woman, despite that display of crocodile tears she put on, was powerful. She walked with an assured air of one accustomed to power. The watcher had seen so many like them within Slytherin, as well as the Death Eaters. Even Dumbledore walked like that, though the old goat was afraid of his own power.

The watcher had no desire for power. Or rather, he had no desire to be a leader or a tyrant. Having the power to live his life on his own terms, with no objections from any corner, was enough. Even if that meant living in seclusion for the rest of his life, which, while aggravating, was manageable. True, he wanted his manifold enemies to suffer, that was non-negotiable, but there were ways and means of doing it without accumulating public power.

Still, the woman was dangerous, too dangerous for him to handle, at least for now. She was probably a Fae to boot, he wouldn't be surprised. Yet he knew a way to ensure she wouldn't be a trouble.

The watcher lowered the Omnioculars, and looked at his hand. A crimson symbol, like a tattoo etched in blood red lines, was present, and had been for the past few weeks. It looked like some a comet, with nine tails not unlike that of a fox. But unlike the tattoo linking him to the Dark Lord, this one signified his power, his dominance, his worthiness to claim his greatest wish. Which was to be the one he loved, who rejected him for someone unworthy of her, to be brought back from the dead, and firmly with him, forever.

Yes…he'd summon a Servant, win the Holy Grail War, by hook or by crook, and once he had Lily back where she belonged, by his side, he would put paid to the last scion of James Potter's misbegotten bloodline, as well as anyone else who had ever slighted him. And then, and only then, would all be right in the world for Severus Snape. That was how it should be…

CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:

Harry and Morgan have had a heartfelt discussion, and Snape is making moves. Oh dear, it seems he is going to fight in the Holy Grail War.

For this fic, the opening chapter is in about August, 1998. The events of Fate/Zero will take place in January, 2000 (and yes, Bill Clinton was still in office: while Fate/Grand Order officially dates these events to 1994, the only indicator within the series itself of when it takes place is Bill Clinton being in office). And yes, Masters can get their Command Seals this far in advance. According to the wiki, up to three years is confirmed by the light novel of Fate/Zero. Also, some people might have guessed who Snape's Servant might be, judging by his Command Seals. I had another in mind, namely Vortigern, but after a certain character comes into the story, I realised they would identify him pretty quickly, so I altered it…

While most of the Servants will be the same as canon, there'll be a few surprises. Without giving too much away, Berserker will be summoned by Team Morgan…and be a welcome change to Lancelot.

No numbered annotations this time.