Sorry for not posting for a few months. Those of you who have been following this story long enough, probably aren't surprised. But either way, I'm back with a new chapter that you'll hopefull enjoy.

Chapter 16 – Morgana Le Fay

Harry didn't like his new room. It was better than his old room – better than his cupboard – but after a week of sleeping close to Merlin, being able to feel safe as he slept and knowing that there was someone close by that cared . . . His new room felt cold. Colder than his cupboard ever had. He didn't know why. There was a bed for him, with soft blankets and an actual pillow and everything. But it just felt empty. It felt too big for just him and his lack of belongings. He was just so used to everything being cramped and small that being alone in such a big area made him feel like he was drowning.

And then there was the silence. The teacher who had brought him here, Professor McGonagall, she had told him that there was a silencing spell cast so that any noise outside of the door wouldn't disturb him. He hated it. How would he know they were coming for him if he couldn't hear their footsteps approaching? He had always hated how Dudley had jumped on every step as he descended the stairs, making sure to be as loud as possible, but at least it had always given him a warning of his approach. It was the same with his uncle and aunt, uncle Vernon was very heavy footed (impossible to avoid, seeing as he was the size of a walrus) and Harry had always known if he was coming towards the cupboard, ready to drag him out and scream at him for something that wasn't his fault, and Harry preferred it that way. His aunt was quieter; she always had been, but Harry had still always been able to identify her soft footfalls as they approached his cupboard door. It had been important; it had always been important that he could hear people coming.

And they had taken that away from him now. The absolute silence was unnerving. Someone could come in at any moment, with no warning, to throw him out – just like uncle Vernon had always threatened to do . . .

He knew that he was supposed to be safe at Hogwarts. That was why he had been brought here, apparently his relatives weren't capable of taking care of him. He wasn't so sure about that. Harry was almost certain that they had the capability to look after him, they just chose not to. After all, if they could wait on Dudley hand and foot, how hard could it be to let him have Dudley's second bedroom? No, their care had been a choice that they had made willingly. And if his relatives, his own blood, could choose that life for him, then there was no chance that he was taking these strangers at their word.

He was a celebrity to them. He was their poster boy. And when they found out that their poster boy lived in a cupboard they decided that they would take him out and put him on display.

That was what he had gathered from the Headmaster's speech at the end of dinner. The man had wanted everyone to know that Harry Potter had suffered, and Harry Potter was being allowed to stay at Hogwarts out of kindness. Well Harry Potter didn't want to be in this cold empty room. He just wanted his brother.

And that was the crux of the matter. Harry was only here for Merlin. They had told him about magic, and then told him that he couldn't go near it for two years still. They had told him he would be with his brother, but they had thrown him in an empty room by himself. They had told him that Hogwarts would be his home, but so far he just felt like he had been locked in a larger version of his cupboard.

Harry didn't know what time it was. There wasn't a clock in his room. There was a window so he knew that it was the day time, and he knew that he hadn't slept, but he didn't know what time it was. He had thought he might judge when he could go for breakfast or lunch based on the sounds of the movements from the students making their way through the castle corridors. Except that they had taken away his chance to hear anything.

Had he missed breakfast? Was it already lunch? Was someone supposed to come get him so he knew the way, or was he just supposed to wander around until he found the Great Hall? He wasn't sure if he could do it on his own, what with all of those moving staircases. Was he even allowed to leave his room? He doubted that the staff wanted a nine-year-old wandering around their school, but no one had told him anything.

Professor McGonagall had just lead him to his room and told him to settle in. What did he have to settle? A few second-hand pieces of clothing from his brother, nothing else.

He was hungry. But that was fine, he had been hungry plenty of times before. Maybe he should seek out the kitchens? They probably didn't want him wandering around but no one had given him any rules so technically he wouldn't be breaking any. And even if he had missed the meal slots for breakfast or lunch, the kind elves in the kitchens would be happy to give him some food. And the kitchen couldn't be that hard to find. He knew it was in the basement of the castle, so if he just went down every staircase he could find then eventually he'd get to the basement. And enough wandering around should either lead him to the kitchens or a least a student who could point him in the right direction. Yes. He was going to find some food.

Morgana Le Fay was an outcast in her own house. It was ridiculous.

They hated her for not knowing her blood-status, and simply assumed she was a mud-blood. They hated that her guardian was Uther Pendragon (the man was running for Prime Minister, so when she mentioned the name once, the half-bloods had gotten it back to those elitist cowards that ran her house). They hated that she had an . . . acquaintance in Gryffindor.

And she hated had let their idiocy sway her. Well, no more.

Screw those inbred, pompous idiots.

She had practically denounced Arthur to try and get them to take her seriously, and it had gotten her nowhere.

Being placed in Slytherin was like being thrown to the wolves. If you aren't one of their pack, then you have to prove your strength to get them to see you as a threat. And being raise in the muggle world meant that she was an outsider. All those little purebloods had grown up knowing each other's names at the bare minimu, if they didn't know each other personally. Not to mention that nearly all of them were distantly related one way or another. It was disgusting, and she was done letting them think she was beneath them.

Her house-mates sneered at her. Her year-mates taunted her. Her roommates belittled her.

Well fuck them.

She wasn't like Arthur; she didn't spend her time before Hogwarts thinking that she was better than everyone around her. She had hated that quality in him, and she hated it in most of her house. If there were any decent people in Slytherin, they were smart enough to keep quiet and keep to themselves.

The only girl in her year who had been kind was Mithian Nemeth. Apparently her family was old and pure-blooded, which was enough to get her peace from the teenaged Nazis, but her father had been disowned for marrying a half-blood, so she was raised not to care about blood purity. Morgana made sure to sit by her in as many classes as she could. This only ever became an issue when they had lessons with Hufflepuff, because the girl seemed to have befriended two boys in that house, but sometimes Morgana could still get a seat on her other side and ensure she was left alone by the demons in her house.

But no more was she going to suffer their idiocy.

Arthur had pulled her aside over the holidays. And his decision to not drag his father into their business had gotten enough of her attention for her to decide to listen to him. He had told her about Gryffindor house, that he didn't really have friends there but that no one was unkind, and no one gave a damn about his muggleborns status. He had told her about his only real friend, a boy named Merlin of all things (who's name had been echoed through Hogwarts infinitely in the last day for his mysterious friendship with boy-wonder Harry Potter), and she had slowly come to see that maybe she didn't have to fight to earn her place at this school. They had agreed to a truce upon their return to the school, she would acknowledge him as she once had before Hogwarts. And their talk had allowed her to come to the realisation that as long as she kept trying to be something she wasn't, she would never get accepted for who she was.

But she would never let Arthur know how much their talk had helped her. God no, he'd be insufferable! Arthur could gloat about anything and everything at the best of times, never mind when he' actually helpful for once. He really was th-

"Excuse me?"

"What?!" she snapped quickly, annoyed at her thoughts being interrupted by a stranger. She quickly wished that she hadn't as she found her eyes dropping to look at a small, spectacled Harry Potter. A Harry Potter who was now scowling at her. She rolled her eyes, cursing her own impulsive nature. "Yes? Can I help you?"

The boy narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not impressed by her quick change around in attitude. Well, at least she'd tried.

"I was trying to find the kitchens. I've been there a few times so I know it was on the bottom floor but I've not been in this area of the school before," the boy replied pointedly. He was clearly trying to ask for her help, without actually having to say the words 'please help me'. Well, unfortunately for him, she was used to idiot boys and their prideful attitudes, and she wasn't in the mood to put up with another snob looking down on her.

"Not that you answered my question as to whether I can help, but I don't know where the kitchens are," she said shortly. "Too good to dine with the rest of us, Potter?"

She watched in amusement as he grit his teeth at her comment.

"Don't know where that is either," he told her, clearly not sharing in her amusement. "Nobody offered me a map."

"That's because Hogwarts doesn't have a map. We're expected to learn our way around."

"Yeah well everybody else has people to learn from, don't they? They've stuck me in a room by myself, no idea where that or anything else in this bloody school is."

She felt some of her previous entertainment at his predicament melt away at that. Because really, he had a point. Morgana had been ostracised by her house, but she had still been able to follow them to the Great Hall and all of her classes until she'd learnt her own way around. They'd clearly left Harry Potter to fend for himself, and she couldn't stop herself for feeling a small amount of pity for him.

"I'll take you to the Great Hall," she said softly, dropping any and all hostility she had been building for the boy. "I've already eaten my lunch but I think your friend was still there when I left." He had been. She had seen Arthur abandon his spot at the Gryffindor table to eat lunch with Emrys, and everyone knew that he and the Potter boy were close, rumours had been flying since last night.

"You know Merlin?" the boy asked dubiously. His eyes darted from her face to her silver and green tie and quickly asked hopefully, "Are you Mithian then?"

"No," she answered, but her curiosity was peaked. "I share a room with her though." The boy nodded and seemed content to follow her along the corridor now that she had promised to lead him to food and people he knew. "Exactly how much do you know about your Merlin's friends?" He shrugged, seeming not entirely comfortable with the question, but she pressed on. "It's only that my foster brother, Arthur, tells me that they're best friends."

"The prat?"

She laughed aloud; Morgana did not know that just two words could bring so much joy into her life. If this was Potter's view of Arthur, then clearly she had underestimated him. "So you've obviously met him then," she said gleefully. She could not wait to rub this in his smug face.

"Oh, no, not yet," Potter told her, shaking his head. "But that's how Merlin first described him in his letters and when I got here. 'Arthur the prat'. It just makes it easier to keep them all straight in my head."

"Well, it looks like Emrys has the right of him then," she said with a smile. It hadn't been Potter to first call Arthur a prat, but if this Merlin was calling him by it then she had seriously over looked the boy. She had simply dismissed him as the quieter one of Mithian's Hufflepuff boys, and the poor soul who Arthur had latched on to. But, clearly, he was something else.

They spent the rest of their walk making small talk. Morgana asking simple questions about what he had been studying at primary school before he came here so as not to spook him. Frankly, he seemed relieved to be able to talk about something familiar and she felt her sympathy for him grow. Even after she dropped him off into more familiar hands, she would be sure to keep a distant eye on Harry Potter. Hogwarts could be difficult enough for muggleborns, and she was seeing that it was infinitely more difficult for wizard celebrities, raised by muggles, who were several years younger than the general populace.

He seemed to slow down beside her as they approached the Great Hall, and she belatedly noticed all of the eyes and whispers following them. She quickly grabbed him from his elbow, ignoring how bony it was, to drag him through the crowd quicker. She ignored how he tensed under her grip and how quickly his head had jerked to look at her. She was a stranger, and that was a healthy reaction to have, she told herself, refusing to think on the Headmaster's vague words yesterday evening.

"Don't worry about the crowds," she said, keeping her hold on his arm and pulling him forwards. "With luck, your celebrity status won't last long, but right now you're shiny and new, and the rabble are dying to get a glimpse of you. As distasteful as they may be, the more time you spend in public places around the school, the quicker the obsession will die down. You'll just become another part of the Hogwarts scenery," she explained.

He looked at her with shewed eyes, clearly unsure whether to trust her advice. Which was fair, she was a stranger after all.

She shrugged at him. "Listen or don't, it doesn't effect me." And then they were approaching the Hufflepuff table. "Arthur, Emrys," she greeted civilly.

"Morgana," Arthur replied, his tone just on the edge of suspicion. How rude. She had agreed to acknowledge their relation; she wouldn't go back on her word.

"I believe this belongs to you," she addressed Emrys, because Arthur could suck it. She dragged Potter forward a little, but he didn't need much convincing after he had seen his friend. He pulled his way out of her grasp on his elbow and shot towards the other boy.

Side by side like that the two of them really did look similar. Both with black hair, both with light eyes, both skinnier than they should be, both with their strong cheekbones (though that really could just be the gauntness of their faces). They almost looked related.

"Harry!" Emrys cried happily, with a bit of relief in his voice, his hand instantly reaching for his smaller double to throw an arm around him or ruffle his hair or whatever else. "I went by your room at the start of lunch but you weren't there. I thought you might've gone to the kitchens or my common room but we couldn't find you. Arthur convinced me to sit down and eat, and if you didn't show up here then we'd check the library or something."

Hmm. From his quiet words in classes she hadn't pegged him for a rambler.

"Sorry," Potter replied, ducking his head. "I didn't really know if I was allowed to leave my room, and when I couldn't avoid my stomach any longer I tried to find the kitchens, but this place his huge and I got a bit lost. She found me and mentioned that she knew where you were."

"Thank you," Emrys said to her sincerely, and a lot more seriously than he needed to for someone just showing a lost kid the way to his friend. "I'm Merlin, by the way. I know we're in some of the same classes and that you're Arthur's sister, but we've not actually met before," he said, holding out his hand to shake.

"Morgana Le Fay," she replied, taking his hand graciously. She only allowed a little of her smirk to come through when she saw Arthur sulking behind his friend. He never had been good at sharing his toys. "Well," she said, ready to leave, "I believe that's my good deed done for the day."

"Yes, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself by doing anymore," Arthur said sarcastically.

"You're one to talk," she smirked, "I don't believe you ever managed a single good deed until you got here, Arthur. I was ever so shocked when you landed in the house of the heroes, you always better fit the roll of bully to our childhood classmates." She saw him flush an embarrassed (and likely angry) red, and counted herself a win. They both knew that he couldn't deny a word she had said. Really, their verbal spars were hardly even a challenge anymore.

"Have a good day, boys," she said happily as she returned back to her common room as she had been intending to before she ran into the little celebrity. "Oh, and try to stay out of the snake pit, Potter, you won't find many welcome faces in Slytherin."

She made sure her words came off as nonchalant and non-threatening, but there was a warning in them. She knew that many in her house hated muggleborns like her, and she had heard enough recently to know that the dark wizard that Potter defeated had hated them just as much. The Dark Lord was a horror story and a messiah all at once to the majority of Slytherin house.

Morgana had always wondered in primary school, while learning about the second world war, how Hitler had gotten so many people to agree with his ideals. Now she felt like she had a better idea of that, after watching the purebloods recite their prejudices, the words coming straight from the mouths of their parents. She felt like she was inside enemy lines, watching as they bred little Nazi soldiers who parroted whatever they heard, as long as it put them on a pedestal above others. She might tell them the comparison one day; she'd love to watch their faces contort as she compared them to some of the most despicable muggles who ever lived.

Hm. Maybe another time.

"So that's your sister then . . ." Merlin said.

Arthur frowned, staring at her retreating figure. "Yes. That's Morgana." He turned to look at Merlin, apparently seeing something on his face, and said, "She always leaves an impression. It's something she learnt from my father."

Merlin saw his scowl deepen at the mention of his father. Merlin didn't know too much about their relationship, but he could see that they weren't exactly close. He had assumed that Arthur had an ally in Morgana, but now they seemed closer to enemies . . . he wasn't sure what to make of her. She had been kind, in showing Harry the way to them, but the words she used against Arthur clearly hurt him . . . And then that warning? threat? towards Harry before she left . . . Either way it didn't sound very good.

Speaking of Harry, "Here," Merlin said, piling some food onto a plate and handing it to his little brother, "you should eat, you said you were hungry."

Harry gave him a small smile and leaned further into his side, and Merlin allowed him self to relax. He had been worried when they couldn't find Harry. It was the first day they had had to spend apart since Harry had arrived at the school, and Merlin had been concerned about him being left on his own, shut up in an empty room. And with what Harry had said earlier, that he wasn't sure he was allowed to leave, it seemed like he was right to be concerned, at least a little. Harry obviously felt like the rules here would be similar to those that the Dursleys had given him. Merlin couldn't blame him for his assumption, he had been told very little of what his living situation at Hogwarts would actually be like. And Hogwarts was very different to Privet Drive.

Her heard a throat clearing and Merlin looked up to remember that, oh yeah, he and Harry weren't alone. Ignoring all of the strangers staring at them, Merlin gave Arthur an apologetic smile and introduced them.

"Harry, this is my friend, Arthur. Arthur, this is my little brother, Harry." Merlin ignored the ensuing whispers that broke out and focused on his friends. Arthur wore a friendly, if slightly awkward, smile, while Harry eyed him scrutinizingly.

"Merlin says you're a bit of a prat," Harry said bluntly, not quite accusing, more of an observation. Merlin had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, though he felt a little bad as he watched Arthur's jaw clench. It wasn't exactly fair for him to be called out by the 'saviour of the wizarding world' in front of a crowd. "From what your sister said, it sounded like she agrees."

And that was apparently too much for Arthur to just take quietly. "Well you can't take anything Morgana says seriously, especially if it's about me. Her favourite thing is causing trouble! You can't just take her word for it!" He wasn't shouting, but Merlin could tell he was annoyed, all of his words spoken through gritted teeth. And the irritated and accusing glare he shot his way was enough to get Merlin to shrug in apology.

"I dunno," Harry continued, and Merlin recognised the amusement in his eyes even if he wasn't sure anyone else could, "you're acting like a bit of a prat right now."

Arthur flushed red. "Yeah well I've got some kid who's never met me before calling me a prat before he's even spoken to me, when all I want is for my friend's brother not to hate me on sight" he bit out, frustrated.

It was enough to send the onlookers whispering again, even as Harry broke out into a smile. He turned to Merlin with an approving look, "I like him." The comment made Merlin break out into a grin, the shocked look on Arthur's face only adding to it. "I was worried your friend's would treat me weird because of the scar," he confessed, then turned to smirk at Arthur, "but you definitely didn't."

"So you were trying to make me angry?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

Harry shrugged, "Not angry, in particular, I was just seeing how you'd react."

Merlin reached out to ruffle his hair, a smile fixed on his face. Harry had a habit of this with new people, seeing if his attitude could push them away quickly before he got his hopes up or got attached. Merlin had watched it happen whenever someone new joined in class in primary school. The scar was just a convenient excuse. But still, Arthur had passed the test, apparently. "Please try not to antagonise the rest of my friends when you meet them?" Merlin asked.

"No promises," he said with a grin. And Merlin knew that even if he did, he would forgive Harry anything.