Chapter 5: A Spectre's Wrath

Ever since Hagrid had indirectly informed Morgana of someone playing an intricate game with whatever package he had picked up at Gringotts, she had spent her midnight hours prowling the corridors of the school, searching for anything suspicious. There was nothing. She had tried entering the door she had discovered that led to the off-limits corridor, but apparently someone had thought about students getting overly curious. If it had been a technological lock, she could've either hacked it or slapped some Omni-Jell on the thing. As it stood, she could just blast the wood and steel door without alerting the faculty. So for now, she'd simply watch.

During her daytime hours, she tried to avoid Hermione's cross questions about where she disappeared to at night. She usually answered with a half-truth, telling the girl that she had trouble sleeping and walked the corridors to calm herself down and tire herself out. The bushy haired bookworm had excepted it, with the rather stern request that she be back no later than twelve thirty at night. Morgana had accepted the parley to keep the girl from sticking her nose somewhere it could get her in trouble or worst, injured. While she and Hermione weren't the best of friends, the former-Spectre genuinely liked her, comparing her to a mixture of a young Liara and Kaiden during his first few weeks aboard the Normandy SR1. Ron, on the other hand, was almost an exact replica of how she was just out of Basic Training. Brash, stubborn as a drunken Krogan, and at times, as prideful as an Asari Huntress.

In her free time, she had begun picking out students who had the potential to be more than the school would let them be. Dean Thomas was creative, thinking up the craziest solutions to a problem. He could be the IT specialist on her new team. Seamus Finnigan had an affinity for explosions: Demolitions expert. Ron was headstrong and preferred to force his way through his problems: Heavy Weapons specialist. And so on, the list continued. She knew that whoever was pulling the strings on the attempted heist at Gringotts wouldn't just stop there. They would keep trying, keep pushing the limits, and eventually someone was going to get hurt, so she would do everything possible to either stop them in their tracks or keep civilian casualties to a minimum.

On a more positive note, she, Liara and Hermione were the top of the year in most of their classes. (She still couldn't stay awake in History of Magic to save her life.) She was pushing Ron to study more, while he attempted to teach her how to play Wizard's chess after a few hours of studying; a schedule they had agreed on. As a result, she wasn't nearly as bad as she was when she and Samantha Traynor would have matches in her cabin. She wasn't good enough to beat Ron, but she wasn't losing as quickly anymore.

The week after her first meeting with Hagrid, a notice went up on the Gryffindor notice board. Flying lessons were starting that Thursday, and the Gryffindors would be learning alongside the Slytherins. Morgana didn't hate the House of the Cunning and Ambitious as a whole. It was the individuals that got on her nerves. Theodore Nott for example; a ferret-looking boy who got a sleazy look in his eye every time he approached her; had come to her no less than eight different time in an attempt to negotiate a marriage contract. The last time she had punched him in the face, a confrontation that ended with Snape taking twenty points from Gryffindor and McGonagall taking ten from Slytherin after Morgana had explained the situation to the older woman, since Snape had been steadily getting worse toward her ever since her first lesson with the man. Draco on the other hand reminded the Spectre of Councilor Udina. Ambitious, cunning and cowardly. She was used to dealing with that, so it was a simple thing to either ignore or put the arrogant boy in his place. Daphne Greengrass on the other hand reminded her a bit of Miranda after the Cerberus agent had been fighting alongside the Spectre for a few months. The girl was intelligent and cunning, often sharing information on members of Slytherin house to the former-N7 agent whenever the two studied together.

If Morgana was being honest, she was actually looking forward to the flying lessons. Steve had shown her the ropes on flying the UT-47A Kodiak during their time off, and she had found that she loved flying with inertial dampeners. As a result, she was giddy with anticipation waiting for the lessons to start, something that got on the nerves of her classmates. Sometimes she cursed being a kid again. It was like fighting a war in her own head, one side was the veteran soldier with PTSD, the other was an eleven-year-old girl who was enamored by every magical thing that passed before her eyes.

Of course, Draco had to try and ruin her good mood by gloating about his feats on his own broom. The idiot boy was continuously claiming to have avoided Muggles in helicopters and such. She didn't believe a word of it, though she was surprised that he even knew what a helicopter was. Of course, she and every Half-Blood and Muggleborn started laughing when he said that the helicopters were flying bikes with weapons that fired beams of light at him. He wasn't the only one gloating about their feats on broomsticks. Seamus had told countless tales of him zooming around the country side, Ron had said he almost crashed into a hang-glider on his brother Charlie's broom. That one she believed, seeing as Ron was a terrible liar. Seamus was a Half-Blood so it might've been possible. Neville hadn't been on a broomstick in his whole life, his over bearing grandmother keeping his feet planted on the ground, making the pudgy boy extremely nervous about the upcoming lessons. Personally, Morgana thought that was for the best. As much as she enjoyed the boy's company, he managed to have the worst accidents possible, so his grandmother had probably saved his life. Morgana herself hadn't been big on sports even before her death, afterwards it wouldn't have been fair due to the cybernetic implants that increased her speed, strength and reaction time.

Hermione was as nervous at the thought of flying as Neville was, going so far as to checked out every book in the library that had something to do with flying and had begun listing different facts about the skill to them on Thursday morning. Morgana only half listened, preoccupied with piling her plate with enough food to make even Ron look like a light eater. Neville on the other hand was hanging onto her every word, desperate for anything that could help him stay on his broomstick later. Garrus interrupted everyone by landing right in front of Morgana, scattering her bacon everywhere. The emerald-eyed girl glared at the smug looking owl as she took the letter from his beak before flicking the gray owl's forehead, sending the bird on his way in a huff. Flicking the letter open, she read the flowing scripture with a steadily growing smile.

Dear Ms. Potter,

If it is no trouble, I have a few questions that require an answer. Perhaps after your flying lessons, we can meet later and talk a bit? You do not need answer right now, simply meet me in the library once the school day is done, before dinner.

Sincerely, Liara T'soni.

Morgana was shaken out of her pleased thoughts as Neville cried out. Quickly stuffing the letter into her pocket, the soldier jumped to her feet as Malfoy was looking at a glass ball with gold bands that seemed to be filled with red smoke, Crabbe and Goyle keeping Neville from snatching it back.

"Draco!" she called, slipping into her Commander role, her tone becoming like icy steel and emerald eyes becoming colder than the surface of Pluto, catching the pompous blonde off guard. "Do you need a reminder of Madam Malkin's shop?"

The blonde's already pale face turned bone white and he hurriedly shoved the ball back to Neville, muttering "Just looking," as he slumped away with his bodyguards. She sat down slowly, everyone in the Hall staring at her as she did. Slowly, conversation went back to normal and Hermione gave her a look she had learned to recognize. "What did you mean by that, Morgana?"

Morgana shrugged and replied, "We met in Madam Malkin's shop in Diagon Alley. He was insulting Hagrid, so I roundhouse kicked him into a wall and threatened to beat him to a bloody pulp if he was stupid enough to do anything like that again." Silence reigned at the table and Morgana looked up from her food to see everyone staring at her. "What?

At three-thirty that afternoon, Morgana and the rest of the first-year Gryffindors headed down the front steps onto the grounds for the flying lessons. It was a beautiful day, clear and breezy, the grass rippling under their feet as the wind blew across the grounds. The students marched to the smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, where the Slytherins and Madam Hooch were already waiting for them with twenty broomsticks lying on the ground. Morgana vaguely remembered George Weasley complaining that the school brooms vibrated when you flew too high or always flew a bit to the left.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" barked Madam Hooch, yellow eyes scanning over the students with a piercing gaze. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

They took their positions and Morgana grimaced at the broom by her feet. It looked to be very old and many of the twigs were sticking out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch from the front of the class, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" shouted every student.

There were varying results. Morgana's broom leapt to her hand immediately, as did Draco's. Ron's flew up to smack him in the face with the handle while Hermione's simply rolled around on the ground. Dean's floated up ever so slowly, while Seamus's (surprise, surprise) caught fire. Neville's stayed on the ground quivering, while Daphne Greengrass's floated up gracefully.

Once everyone had their broom in hand, Madam Hooch had them mount the brooms and went along each line, correcting their mistakes, making sure they wouldn't slide off when they took to the air. Morgana and Ron had to keep themselves from laughing out loud when Madam Hooch told Draco that he'd been doing it wrong for years. Soon though, everyone was ready for takeoff, physically at least, since Hermione looked petrified and Neville was, well, Neville.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off the ground, hard," said Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

But Neville, poor nervous Neville, kicked off before the whistle even touched the hawk-eyed woman's lips and rather than simply rising, his broom took off like a rocket, pulling the screaming boy along with him. Morgana saw what was about to happen and curse under her breath at her mediocre skill with Singularity. If she had practiced like she had planned to, a low-level Singularity would keep the boy from hurting himself, but because of her laziness, she was helpless as she saw Neville slip from his broom and fall, the Spectre already moving to where he would land. Hard.

WHAM - a thud and crack and Neville was face down in the grass, clutching at his wrist. Morgana reached the boy first and quickly tore a strip from her robes while grabbing two thick tree limbs on the ground. She gently felt over Neville's wrist as he whimpered in the grass, feeling along the break before giving him an apologetic look as she snapped the broken bone back into place. She quickly braced the bone and wrapped it, tying it off tight as Madam Hooch and the rest of the class reached him. The hawk-eyed teacher approached Morgana as the crimson-haired girl helped the whimpering boy to his feet, the teacher's face white as bone.

"Wrist is broken in two places," said the girl in a no-nonsense tone. "I've set the bone, but it's best if he heads to the Hospital Wing to get that looked at."

The teacher blinked at blank expression of the eleven-year-old and nodded slowly, taking Neville by the arm and leading him away, calling over her shoulder as she did, "None of you is to move while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch." The woman stopped and turned to Morgana, a small smile on her face. "And twenty points to Gryffindor for quick and efficient work." Morgana didn't react as the teacher resumed her journey to the hospital. Everyone looked to The-Girl-Who-Lived as she watched the pair leave. The silence was broken when Malfoy had the audacity to laugh as soon as teacher and injured student were out of earshot.

"Did you see face?" the arrogant pureblood crowed, oblivious to how Morgana had stiffened, nor to how the air was suddenly charged with power. The other Slytherins joined him; baring Daphne and her small group; ignoring the energy spitting and hissing around a certain crimson-haired girl. The sky began to darken, the smell of ozone filling the air. Not that anyone noticed.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil snapped, glaring at the laughing blonde.

Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a cruel, pug-faced Slytherin girl that could usually be found clinging to Malfoy. "Never thought you'd like fat crybabies, Pavarti"

"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching up a small glass ball out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's grandmother got him."

The orb glittered in the sun as the boy held it up in triumph.

"Give it here Malfoy," came a deathly quiet voice, but one that everyone heard. Turning to the Girl-Who-Lived, everyone was shocked silent at the level of raw magic pouring off the girl, emerald energy swirling like a hurricane, eyes engulfed in emerald flames. The Pureblood paled at the power and everyone took several steps back.

"N-no, I think I'll leave it—Oof!" Malfoy didn't get to finish his sentence as Morgana lashed out, Biotic Shockwave blasting across the grass and colliding with the boy's chest, sending him flying a good ten feet. He scrambled to his feet and hopped onto the broom that he had clutched in his hand. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well, but Morgana didn't care. A strand of Magic lashed out and took up a broom, yanking it to the pissed off Spectre. Without hesitation, she hopped on and blasted through the air toward the bone-white pureblood. In the back of her mind, Morgana noticed that she was flying perfectly without being taught, it was easy, the feeling of freedom felt amazing. However, rage overrode wonder as she chased the boy across the sky, Flares flying by his head as they flew.

Draco Malfoy

This was impossible! Potter, a girl who didn't know the first thing about flying, was not only out-flying him at every turn, she was throwing orbs of purple energy around like it was nothing, the orbs exploding in the distance as they missed. He swerved left and right as the blasts flew by him. He risked a look over his shoulder and nearly fell off his broom at the look of unfettered rage on the girl's face. He couldn't evade forever so he did the only thing he could think of and threw Longbottom's Remembrall as hard as he could away from him, the crimson-haired girl immediately abandoning her pursuit to chase the orb. He grinned to himself, both in relief and satisfaction. However, that satisfaction faded as the Girl-Who-Lived pulled up from a dive with glass orb in hand, landing lightly as her magic faded away, leaving the girl looking tired but triumphant. Just what in the name of Merlin's beard is that girl? No eleven-year-old is that strong or skilled at Eleven. His thoughts were interrupted as he landed when Professor McGonagall came out of the door and called the girl's name. His grin returned full force.

Morgana Potter (Shepard)

Morgana was angry, but she was also exhausted. Her body wasn't used to so using so much magical and Biotic energy at once and it was showing. She was barely paying attention as her fellow students argued with her Head of House, nor as the teacher led her through the halls of Hogwarts, whether heading back to the common room to collect her things or her office or whatever. Morgana was too tired to really think about it. Currently the only things on her mind were going to check on Neville to return his glass ball, which was still clench in her fist, and how good it had felt to let loose, to fly as naturally as breathing. How she was that good at flying, she didn't know. When flying the Kodiak, she had nearly crashed more than once. So why was she so good at flying a broom?

The exhausted commander was shaken from her tired thoughts as she bumped into McGonagall's stationary form. The professor turned to look at her, looking rather odd before realizing how tired the girl was. She knelt so that their eyes were level, grass green meeting dull emerald green. "Are you alright, Ms. Potter?" asked the Transfiguration teacher, watching the girl carefully.

Morgana nodded slowly. "Yes, ma'am. Just tired is all. I've never been that angry before so my body's not used to that much power being pumped through it all at once." She said truthfully, too tired to be worried about much else. The old woman nodded, putting her hands on her shoulders. "Once we're done, we'll take you up to the hospital wing so you can get some rest," said Professor McGonagall in a soft tone that doesn't seem to quite fit her. Morgana nodded slowly and leaned against the wall, suddenly too tired to stand. McGonagall pushed open the door next to them and stuck her head in. Morgana vaguely heard the older woman asking Professor Flitwick for someone called Wood. A burly looking Gryffindor boy stepped out of the class looking very confused. McGonagall helped Morgana to her feet and pulled the girl along.

After a few short minutes, they reached a class room, the room empty but for Peeves, who looked to be writing rather inventive words on the chalkboard. Morgana couldn't help herself and giggled, filing the creative curse words away for later use. The poltergeist looked to the crimson-haired girl and gave her a deep bow, before saluting to McGonagall and zooming out the window. McGonagall looked to the exhausted girl for a moment before pushing both students into the room and shutting the door.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's confused expression turned to delight while Morgana just looked between the two in confusion, too tired to recall what Ron had told her about Quidditch.

"Are you serious, Professor?" asked Wood, sounding a bit too excited for Morgana's liking

"Absolutely," the older woman answered crisply, a small grin on her face. "She's a natural. I've never seen anything like it before. Was that your first time on a broom, Potter?" McGonagall was sounding extremely excited, which was frankly freaking out the former-Spectre just a bit, since she was used to the almost Military strictness that the woman usually showed. Morgana nodded numbly, eyes steadily growing heavier by the moment.

"She caught that thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive directly after chasing Mr. Malfoy through the air with more skill than I've ever had the pleasure of seeing in my life." McGonagall told Wood excitedly. "Didn't even scratch herself. I don't know anyone who could've done it."

Wood was looking as though every holiday in existence plus his birthday had come all at once. It was rather freaky.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly, dark brown eyes wide.

Wood's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team." Professor McGonagall explained quickly.

"She's definitely got the build of a Seeker," Wood said, circling the tired girl. "Light, speedy, agile too if what you said is true. We'll need to get her a decent broom though. Nimbus Two Thousand or Cleansweep Seven. At least"

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the First-Year rule. Heaven-" Professor McGonagall didn't get to finish as Morgana cut her off right there. "I'm sorry to interrupt Professor, but I'm going to pass out now." With that, her world went black.

When her eyes opened again, three very familiar faces were looking down at her. She smiled tiredly at Neville's concerned look, raising her hand where his Remembrall was still clenched. "You dropped this, Nev." She said quietly, smiling as the boy took his property back. Turning her head, she looked at the familiar face of Karin Chakwas. Familiar, but different at the same time. This Karin didn't have the lines on her face from years of military service, just those from old age. "So, doc?" she smiled ruefully. "Am I gonna live?"

Chakwas gave a light laugh. "Oh yes Ms. Potter, you'll live. You're simply suffering from Magical Overload. A common effect from young witches or wizards using too much magic for their young bodies to handle. You'll be exhausted for the rest of the day, but you'll be fine." She patted the girl on the shoulder, a bright smile on her face. "And thank you for setting Mr. Longbottom's wrist, that made my job much easier."

Professor McGonagall looked over the matron's shoulder. "Worry not, Ms. Potter. You just rest, you won't have to worry about school work until you wake up."

Morgana nodded sleepily before passing out once more.

Liara T'Soni

The blue haired witch walked through the halls toward the Hospital Wing. The whole school had heard how Morgana Potter had become enraged toward Draco Malfoy as he laughed at Neville Longbottom's injury, how she had begun throwing around magic with ease, how the clear skies had become overcast and stormy in seconds, thunder rumbling across the skies. The students already had a nickname for her. The Wrath of the Storm or Storm Rage. Padma had heard from her sister Parvarti and had told Liara, who had immediately headed toward the hospital wing, knowing that that much magic in such a young body would exhaust the girl. She pushed open the large doors of the hospital wing to see Madam Chakwas leaning over the unconscious girl-hero.

"Is she alright?" asked Liara, standing at the foot of the girl's bed. Chakwas stood up straight and smiled at the girl.

"She'll be fine. I gave her a potion to help her sleep. Nothing to worry about, Ms. T'Soni." Said the old matron, casting a look to the crimson-haired girl asleep on the bed. "Best to let her rest for now." The older woman walked toward her office, patting the navy-haired girl on the shoulder as she passed.

Liara nodded in resignation before taking a seat at the side of Morgana's bed. The-Girl-Who-Lived was an enigma. She was intelligent, loyal and humble all while at the same time being possibly as strong as Professor Dumbledore. The abilities she had presented during her attack on Malfoy were unheard of, eruptions of power acting as a cascading shockwave, missiles made of purple-black energy. Where did they come from? From what the Heir to the T'Soni bloodline had heard was that Morgana's magic was emerald green, the same color as her eyes, yet the attacks were purple.

It made no sense. None whatsoever. Liara sighed. She normally loved mysteries, enjoying the challenge of unraveling the truth. But here… something about Morgana Potter made her magic jump in response to her. The kind-hearted girl had helped her more than once during Transfiguration and the navy-blue haired witch had caught her staring as though she were looking at someone special each time. And her eyes… while the emerald color in the crimson haired girl's eyes were enchanting, it was what was behind them that confused her. The T'Soni family had a gift for sensing emotions, and Liara could sense much pain in the Potter girl. A hurricane of pain, and sorrow, hate and rage pushed behind a wall of steel. So much that it was only a matter of time before she snapped. Liara sighed again. What a mess…

Albus Dumbledore

What a mess… thought the elderly wizard as he read through yet another angry letter from Ms. Parkinson's parents, requesting he expel Ms. Potter for attacking a student. One that had laughed at another's pain and had angered a young girl with more power than her body could handle at one time. He had authorized Minerva giving the girl a Nimbus Two Thousand for her new Quidditch career, mostly to offer an olive branch to the girl for intruding into her mind at the Star-of-Term feast. The girl could quite possibly rival a dragon in raw magical strength, which made her a very dangerous enemy to have. He had to find a way to either place a new block on her magic or get back in the girl's good graces to guide her on the right path to the final confrontation with Lord Voldemort. The question was, how to do that? The old man sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He hated having a child fight a war, but for the Greater Good, there was no other choice.

Morgana Potter (Shepard)

Morgana sat in the Great Hall that night, having been discharged from the hospital wing just a few minutes before, piling as much food as she could onto her plate to replace the energy she had spent chasing that whelp Malfoy through the skies. She was mentally berating herself for losing control the way she did. From what everyone had said, she had been launching Flares like crazy. Not good at all, she could've killed Draco, and as much as she hated the arrogant prick, she didn't want him dead. However, one good thing had happened that day. She was the new Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, youngest in a century according to Oliver Wood, who despite being a good guy, he seemed a bit obsessed with winning the Quidditch Cup at the end of the year.

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed as he heard the news.

Morgana shushed him, looking around as the rest of the hall continued eating. She had unfortunately missed her rendezvous with Liara, considering she'd been unconscious from Magical Overload up until a few minutes before dinnertime. She pulled Ron down low and spoke in low tones.

"I start training next week," she said in a whisper. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants me to be the team's secret weapon."

The fiery haired boy nodded. "He's right on that, you should've seen yourself. I've never seen anyone fly like that on a broom that old, you're a natural!"

Morgana grinned at the compliment, still surprised at how well she flew with so little training. The only thing she'd ever been good at was fighting and she'd been one of the best at it, killing enough enemies to populate a planet. But this was different. Fighting made her feel powerful, like she could take on anything. But flying…it made her feel alive, free even. It was a good feeling. She was shaken from her thoughts as Fred and George Weasley sat down next to her. She had finally been able to tell the two apart, Fred having eyes several shades lighter than George, with George having a small scar under his right eye.

"Well done, Morgana," They said in tandem, mischievous grins on their faces. "Wood's just told us, we're on the team too. Beaters. It's our job to make sure you don't get yourself killed out there" Morgana grinned at the two and nodded.

"Well then I'd say I'm in good hands," said Morgana, a gleam in her emerald eyes.

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred as he looked to his twin. "Gryffindor hasn't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, 'Gana, Wood was practically dancing when he told us."

Morgana shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I couldn't really see myself while I was chasing Draco."

The twins nodded and left, patting the girl on the back as they passed her, talking about their friend Lee Jordan finding a hidden passage. They hadn't been gone more than a few moments before they were replaced by the Three Stooges. Draco and his cronies waltzed up, looking extremely pleased with themselves.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting a train back to the Muggles?" said the Pureblood in a hearty tone.

"That funny, Draco, coming from a coward who can't even face me without your goon squad," said Morgana with an icy tone, not even looking up from her meal as she spoke. She knew they couldn't do anything in full view of the High Table. Most Crabbe and Goyle were good for were standing around looking intimidating. They were about as intimidating as that drugged up Volus back on Illium. At most they made her laugh. At worst, they annoyed her.

"I can take you any time I want," Malfoy said, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before?" Morgana held up a hand to stop Ron's retort before he said something stupid.

"You aren't worth my time, Draco," she said coolly, finally looking up at the boy's now red face. "First off, you need Tweedled Dum and Tweedled Dee here to feel powerful. You expect people to respect you when you haven't earned that respect. Secondly, you don't know any real magic. Most you could do is shoot sparks at me. While I could obliterate you with a single attack." Her face turned into a feral grin. "Not to mention, I'm not an idiot. I know that you plan to challenge me, then go tell Filch that someone is heading to the location of your choice after curfew to cause trouble." Her grin widened as the boy's red face grew even redder, this time from embarrassment for being found out so easily. "Come back when you have a bit more experience. I've dealt with bastards a hundred times as cunning as you could ever hope to be." She turned back to her plate, no longer acknowledging the Pureblood as he turned away dejectedly and headed back to his own table. She looked over to an awe-struck Ron with a small smirk on her face.

"How did you know? You couldn't have possibly known that was his plan…" Ron sputtered as he looked at Morgana in a new light. The crimson-haired girl grinned wider.

"It was simple, he's not as subtle as he thought. He's under the impression that everyone isn't as smart as he is, so he could trick anyone to get into trouble to keep his hands clean. However, I've dealt with actual back-stabbing politicians before. He's got nothing on them." With that, she continued eating, ignoring Ron's insistently jabbing to get her to explain. She never noticed Hermione narrowing her eyes at her comment, the bushy haired girl's interest piqued.

That night, Morgana was headed out for her nightly walk when click - the lamp next to the portrait hole clicked on and Hermione Granger was sitting in the chair, looking very cross.

"I knew you were heading out. You're heading to that duel, aren't you?" the girl accused, flinching a bit when emerald eyes pinned her in her place.

"I'm not, actually. You know for a fact that I have trouble sleeping. You know that I head out every night to walk around until I'm tired enough to sleep without having nightmares." Morgana narrowed her eyes at the bushy-haired girl before smacking her forehead. "Ron already left, didn't he?" she asked, fearing the answer.

When the bookworm nodded, the Spectre sighed, cursing under her breath as she pushed the portrait open and stepping out, holding it open for Hermione to step out and was about to close it when she heard what sounded like someone sleeping. Motioning for Hermione to hold the door open, she squatted down and shook the snoring Neville Longbottom awake. The boy jolted awake and looked about blearily, eyes widening as he spotted the crimson-haired girl. He jumped to his feet, thanking her profusely for her help earlier. The Commander simply smiled and hugged the chubby boy, pushing him through the portrait hole and reminding him that the password for that week was 'pig snout' before letting the picture frame swing closed. Motioning with her head, she led Hermione through the castle she had become so familiar with, following a twisting path to the school's trophy room, where she had a sneaking feeling that Ron would be there, trying to defend either hers or Gryffindor's honor. The kid was courageous. Stupid, but courageous.

The girls arrived at the door to the trophy room and slowly opened the oak door to see Ron standing still as a statue as Filch's voice filtered through the room, telling his annoying cat, Mrs. Norris, to find whoever was in the room. Not waiting a single second, she moved forward and clamped a hand over the red head's mouth, keeping his wand arm pinned behind him as she pulled him out the door and into the hall. Releasing him, she didn't give him a chance to ask a question as she pushed both him and Hermione along, getting them as far away from the grouchy old caretaker as fast as she could. The three of them ran for minutes, Ron and Hermione following the Spectre as she led them through the maze of corridors until they finally stopped in the Charms corridor, Morgana pushing a door open and letting the two slip in before she followed, closing the door with a click.

Ron moved to say something when Morgana's fist collided with his jaw, knocking the boy to the floor as the N7 operative stood over him with a bone chilling glare on her face as Hermione gaped at the crimson-haired girl. "What the actual hell were you thinking, Ron?" She demanded, rage boiling to the surface at his idiot move.

Ron had enough sense to look ashamed, clutching his throbbing jaw as he answered. "After what you said, I tried to ignore him. But after dinner, Malfoy challenged me to a duel, he insulted my family and you. I had to step up!" The boy was nearly shouting by the end of his explanation. Morgana shook her head in exasperation.

"Ron, he only insulted me and your family because he knew it would draw you in." she muttered with a shake of her head. "Standing up for your friends and family isn't a bad thing, but when you make a stupid move like this, all it does is get you in trouble for no good reason." She extended her hand, offering her help to her first friend at Hogwarts besides Hagrid. Ron looked from her hand to her face, where emerald eyes watched him softly. His lips lifted into a small smile as he accepted her hand as she yanked him to his feet with surprising strength for someone her age. Any words they would've shared was postponed as a spinning orange circle appeared over Morgana's left hand. Releasing Ron's hand, she tapped the circle, her Omni-Tool springing to life with a map of the floor the trio are on. Hermione immediately moved forward.

"What is that?" the girl asked, eyes glued to the object in question.

"My Omni-Tool. It was in my vault at Gringotts." Morgana answered shortly, eyes flicking to the bookworm of a girl for a moment. Looking back to her Omni-Tool, she cursed under her breath as dots marking Filch and Snape approach from two different directions, leaving only one corridor open to them. "I managed to put trackers on all the teachers. Helps when I'm walking around at night."

She quickly shut down the tool and motioned for her fellow Gryffindors to follow her. Checking her corners, she leads the way down the open corridor, weaving her way through the castle, occasionally checking her tool only to curse as she saw that the teachers were only getting closer. Soon, the trio had reached a door she had been meaning to investigate for some time. The door to the forbidden corridor. She grabbed the handle and turned it, only for it to click. Locked. Once again, the Spectre cursed as she took a step back, ready to kick the door down with a biotic-enhanced kick. Before she could even lift her leg however, Hermione pushed her out of the way.

"Oh, move over!" The girl cried as she whipped out her wand, a light brown object with vine engravings in the wood, not unlike the silver engraved in her own wand. Hermione tapped the lock and spoke in a loud whisper. "Alohomora!" The lock clicked in an instant and swung open, the three students rushing through and half slammed the door shut. As Ron and Hermione listened at the door to Snape and Filch argue about students out of bed, Morgana's brow furrowed. Dumbledore said this corridor was off limits. If so, then how was Hermione able to unlock the door with a such a low-level spell.

Morgana was snapped out of her thoughts as what felt like warm air brushed against the back of her neck. She looked up to see Ron and Hermione staring at something behind her with looks of pure terror etched on their faces. The Spectre slowly turned around to see an honest-to-god Cerberus staring down at her with three pairs of eyes. The three-headed-hound was dark brown, almost black, with three pairs of amber eyes that looked rather surprised to see them. She waved a hand behind her, motioning for the two terrified Gryffindors to remain right where they were She stood absolutely still as the three heads pressed close to her, sniffing loudly as the hound (or was it hounds?) took in her scent. Having dealt with canines before, (did varren count as canines?) she knew that if she lashed out, she'd be torn apart. After several moments, the dog heads pulled back and looked at her with curiosity.

She let out a sigh of relief as the giant dog's tail began to wag excitedly at the prospect of new playmates. She slowly rose her hand and all three heads shot forward, each fighting for attention. It was so comical to see, she couldn't help but laugh. A giant three headed dog, acting like three excitable puppies trying to be petted. While the heads were distracted, she checked her omni-tool for any teachers close by. Seeing that Filch was now two floors up and Snape seemed to be on his way back to the dungeons, she gave a sharp whistle, catching the hound's attention. She pointed to the ground. "Lay down," she said in her Commander tone. The dog immediately obeyed, tail wagging excitedly as she slowly moved forward to pet the middle head's snout. "You're just a big softy, aren't you?" she asked the Cerberus with a smile. The hound huffed and tried to lick her. Morgana jumped away from its tongue with a laugh. "I can't stay buddy," she told the hound as she slowly backed up toward the door. "But I'll come back later so we can play."

She motioned behind her back with her right hand for the two behind her to open the door. The dog whined pathetically as she backed out the door, giving a quiet bark as Ron slammed the door shut. Both Ron and Hermione let out gasps of relief while Morgana simply began to laugh to herself at what had just occurred. Soon, she was doubled over, clutching at her stomach as she held in her laughter to keep any teachers that might hear her oblivious to the situation. Ron and Hermione both shared a confused look before staring at the laughing crimson-haired girl as though she were stark-raving-mad.

Spending several minutes trying to calm herself, Morgana finally began walking back to the common room, Ron and Hermione following close behind, both still staring at her as though she were crazy. If only they knew…

"Dumbledore goes on about dying a painful death, and he has a big puppy dog with three heads hiding behind a door that a first year could open," Morgana scoffed at the idiocy of the sentence. "He really is insane…"

They were nearly back to the common room when Ron finally spoke. "How'd you keep that thing from killing you?" he asked, light blue eyes wide. The girl shrugged.

"Giant or not, one head or three, a dog is still a dog." She said nonchalantly. "One simply has to know how to deal with animals. I had a friend, Jack, who owned a dog like that. Absolutely terrifying if he didn't know you. Instant he got to know you a bit, he was the biggest puppy dog around." She explained, remembering Eezo the biotic varren. "Well I say friend, but Jack was more like a little sister with a lot of issues." Shepard sighed as memories of her talks with the Psychotic Biotic in the bowls of the SR2 and at the apartment that Anderson had given her. Hermione interrupted her thoughts.

"You said…'had a friend'…what happened to her?" the girl asked hesitantly. Morgana froze in place, memories of Jack pulling Liara and Garrus onto the Normandy before her charge into the beam leading up to the Citadel.

Morgana shook her head and kept moving. "She's gone now. Alive or dead, I don't know. Let's leave it at that," she said curtly, essentially shutting down any follow up questions, not knowing that she had piqued the interest and suspicion of Hermione and Ron both. Before long, they had reached the Gryffindor Common Room, given the Fat Lady the password and headed up to their rooms, Hermione going on about a trapdoor beneath the Cerberus' feet. Morgana had mulled the information over in her head as she lay on her bed. Whatever Dumbledore had Hagrid retrieve from Gringotts must have been placed beyond the trapdoor beneath the Cerberus, undoubtedly surrounded behind more traps and puzzles. Though if the front door had been anything were to go by, they were puzzles that first-years could bypass, so it wouldn't be too difficult for her to get through once she decided to poke around some more. With that final thought, she fell asleep, her night blissfully dreamless for the first time in a while, her mind too exhausted to torment her again.

The next morning, Ron and Morgana walked to the Great Hall discussing the night before, though it was mostly Ron pestering her about her friend Jack. As with the night before, she shut him down, telling him that she'd talk when she was ready. From there he began pestering her about the three-headed-dog and how she'd tamed it so quickly. She, of course, clarified that it was already tamed and trained. She had simply gained its trust. Hermione had passed them with a huff, obviously not happy with either of them for continuing to talk about the unauthorized excursion.

Malfoy had looked extremely surprised and disappointed when Ron had walked in, looking tired but relatively cheerful. They had sat down while discussing what could possibly be beyond the trapdoor, Morgana sharing her intelligence on the object Hagrid had taken from Gringotts and had shared her theory as well. They had spent the first few minutes sharing ideas, Hermione glancing at them every so often with a rather cross look in her eye as she refused to say anything to either of them. Ron had taken it as a bonus, since he was under the impression that she was a bossy know-it-all. Morgana was rather disheartened about it, as she had been under the impression that they were getting closer to being friends.

As the owls flooded the Great Hall with morning mail, a very odd sight attracted the Hall's attention as Garrus flew through the air clutching a long, thin parcel in his talons. The owl flared his wings at the last second and dropped the parcel right in front of her, knocking her bacon everywhere. The owl had a prideful look in his eye that had Morgana thinking that this would be the moment that her Turian friend would've said 'Scoped and Dropped' just to be a bit of a prick. The owl dropped a letter on the package, grabbed a large slice of bacon and took off, presumably to head back to the Owlery. Morgana grabbed the letter and opened it up. It said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch Field at seven o'clock for your first training session,

Professor M. McGonagall.

Morgana blinked rapidly. She had completely forgotten that she was part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, having passed out just after she had accepted the offer. She handed the note to Ron as she ran her free hand over the broom, her magic pulsing in response to the spells and charms woven into the wood. The two red-heads stood up and took the parcel from the hall quickly, trying to head up to the Common room to unwrap her new broom before their first class for the day. However, somehow Draco and the two stooges had gotten ahead of them. Malfoy attempted to take the broom from Morgana and got a kick between the legs for his troubles. The trolls started forward, only to stop as the Spectre pinned them with a heated glare and the pair were reminded of the day before, when the crimson-haired girl had tossed their leader around without breaking a sweat. Showing a rare form of wisdom, they moved out of her way, allowing she and Ron to quickly head up to the common room, Morgana heading up to the girl's dormitory to place the broom under her bed. Half way back down the stairs, an angry voice came from the portrait hole.

"So, I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?" Hermione Granger stood in the portrait hole looking very cross. Morgana blinked at the girl.

"It's not a reward for breaking the rules, Hermione," she said, shaking her head calmly. "Professor McGonagall simply saw my natural skill while I happened to be breaking the rules." Hermione seemed to accept Morgana's words, if only just, when Ron had to open his big mouth.

"I thought you weren't talking to us," the fiery haired boy sneered. "Don't stop now, it's doing us so much good." Morgana's palm met her forehead as Hermione glared at the boy before stalking off in a huff. The Spectre-turned witch had smacked Ron upside the head before heading out to her next class.

The rest of the day went smoothly, even Potions where Malfoy had tried to sabotage her potion in retribution for her kick to his family jewels. It hadn't ended the way he had hoped. His consistent yammering had caused him to lose focus on his own fever potion, which in turn caused it to explode and made everyone who got splashed turn bright red and start sweating profusely.

Thirty minutes before seven o'clock, Morgana headed down to the Quidditch pitch. The field was massive, easily the size of an American football stadium. Hundreds of seats rose high above the field so that spectators could see what was occurring during the game. At either end of the field were three tall poles of varying height, presumably each representing a different point set. Morgana looked down at the elegant broom in her hand, her mind wandering. What would it be like to fly on a broom without her mind being clouded by rage? She couldn't help herself. She mounted her new broom and took off hard, moving like a bullet through the air, weaving in and out of the hoops with the slightest motion. She laughed, it felt incredible, like every problem or doubt just fell away as she flew around the pitch. She flew non-stop for nearly twenty minutes before she heard Oliver Wood calling up to her.

Flying down, she landed a few feet from the older boy, Wood grinning almost madly at the sight of her flying skills.

"I can see what McGonagall was talking about," said Wood, eyes glinting. "You really are a natural. I'm only going to teach you the rules tonight, then you'll be joining us for team practice three times a week."

Morgana had grinned at that, relishing the chance to have a bit more to do in her routine. Being a soldier, she was used to doing some form of exercise for most of the day when not deployed. Even during her time as a guest of the Alliance after she had returned from the Suicide Mission at the galactic center, she had been allowed to exercise and keep a full schedule while she had been awaiting her trial.

Wood went on to explain the basics of Quidditch, most of which Ron had told her about during the last couple of months. Seven members on each team. Each team had three Chasers; those meant to score with a large, bright red ball called a Quaffle. Two Beaters; the ones who were responsible for keeping a pair of enchanted iron balls called Bludgers from knocking players off their brooms by hitting the things with a pair of metal wrapped bats while aiming to knock players form the opposite team off their brooms. One Keeper, being Wood; essentially a goalie. And a Seeker, her. Her only job was to spot the golf ball sized gold orb called the Snitch as it zipped around the field. The game didn't end until on side caught the Snitch. The Snitch itself cost an extra hundred and fifty points, so the team that caught it was usually the victor of the game.

Being as dark as it was, they used ordinary golf balls for Morgana to practice. She realized very quickly that the now natural Cerberus augmentations in her brain and eyes gave her bit of an unfair advantage, however she no longer cared since she was at a school that taught freaking magic. Morgana didn't miss a single ball and Wood had praised her after the training session was over. "We're going to win the Quidditch Cup for sure," he said as they began to put up the equipment. "I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up better than Charlie Weasley, and he could've played for any team he wanted if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Morgana quickly adjusted to her new schedule, training three days a week with the rest of the team (The girls had all praised her skill after her first training session once they went to shower before heading back to the school), working on her homework before heading up to do her evening exercises and wandering the halls of the school at night. She often visited the Cerberus, the two of them becoming fast friends as she played with the oversized, three-headed puppy. The castle felt more like a home than she'd had in three years, almost comparing to her apartment on the Citadel or the Normandy. Almost.

On Halloween morning, the school woke to the smell of baking pumpkins wafting up from the kitchens. The smell had immediately had her drooling at the scent of food. Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that they were ready to begin practicing the Levitation Charm, something the other students had been dying to try out ever since the diminutive teacher had made Neville's pet toad zoom around the classroom about two weeks before hand.

Morgana had been paired with Seamus Finnigan, who had time and time again proven to have issues with his magic, often causing explosions with the simplest of spells. If she were being honest, she would've preferred to be paired with Liara, who sat across with her paired with another Ravenclaw girl. Ron on the other hand was paired with Hermione. Neither seemed very happy about the arrangement, considering that Hermione hadn't said a word to either of them since Morgana's broom had arrived, something that Morgana had tried to fix several times, though it seemed that the bookworm of a girl was as hard-headed as a juvenile Krogan.

Flitwick had reminded them of the 'swish and flick' movement they had been practicing for the past two weeks and set them to work. Morgana spent her time primarily trying to help Seamus get his feather to float, only for the thing to catch fire from her own magic. Seamus had let out a bark of laughter even as he doused the flames, Morgana's face bright red in embarrassment at her mistake. Ron didn't seem to be having much more luck than she was the next table over.

The red headed boy seemingly forgot the motion they had been taught and was swinging his long arms like a windmill, nearly striking her in the head several times. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione snapped. "You're doing it wrong," Morgana heard her say in an aggravated tone. "First off, you're not trying to put someone's eye out, so stop swinging your arm so much. It's a simple swish and flick motion with your wrist." Morgana snuck a peek and winced at Ron's red ears and neck. "Secondly, it's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long"

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron all but snarled, obviously forgetting what Morgana had told him about Hermione trying to prove that she belonged in Hogwarts with the rest of them.

Hermione through her hair back, rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and said very clearly, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather the two were sharing floated up easily, hovering about four feet above their heads. Flitwick immediately began to praise Hermione, since she was the first one to manage it. Liara had floated her feather next, a proud grin on her face as her partner gave a squeal of joy and hugged her enthusiastically. Ron was rather cross by the end of the class.

"She's a nightmare, honestly," he ranted to Morgana on their way to Transfiguration. "It's no wonder no one can stand her."

Morgana opened her mouth to tell him off for judging the Muggleborn girl so harshly when someone knocked into her as they ran passed them. Morgana was shocked to see that it was Hermione, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes as she hurried by. As Morgana took a step to go after the girl, a gentle hand gripped her wrist. Looking down, she was surprised to see Liara standing next to her, staring after the crying girl.

"I'll go after her, don't worry." Said the Ravenclaw as emerald eyes met sapphire. Emotion flared in Morgana's chest as she saw so much of her Liara in those eyes and had to restrain herself from pulling the blue-haired girl into a tight hug. Instead, she nodded in agreement and watched as the T'Soni girl moved gracefully through the crowd after Hermione. Morgana turned her emerald gaze to Ron, who swallowed thickly at the anger in her eyes.

"Ron," she began, taking a deep breath to keep from shouting at him. "If you have nothing nice to say, don't open your mouth at all." She didn't give him a chance to respond as she hurried on. She didn't talk to Ron for the rest of the day, not trusting herself to keep from punching him again.

Neither Hermione nor Liara showed up for the next class and weren't seen for the rest of the afternoon. Morgana was getting slightly worried. She knew that Liara could take care of herself, having felt the girl's powerful magic whenever they had been paired up in class. But it didn't stop the concern from blooming in her heart. On her way to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, she overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in the girl's bathroom with Liara keeping her company. Liara had apparently ordered they be left alone while Hermione dealt with her emotions. Morgana spotted Ron looking distinctly uncomfortable at the news. As he should, treating her the way he did, thought Morgana crossly. Her worry for the girl stayed with her during the feast, making much of the food taste almost like ash in her mouth. Her bad mood took a dive when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, turban askew and a look of terror etched onto his face. His words made her heart stop in an instant.

The man slumped against the High Table and gasped, "Troll! Troll in the dungeons! Thought you ought to know!" The man proceeded to drop to the ground in a dead faint. There was a moment of silence, the pandemonium. As the students panicked and rushed to get up, Morgana's face paled. She had come across a section on trolls while reading up on facts about Cerberus hounds. They weren't the smartest creatures around, but they were incredibly strong and the older ones often had a resistance to some magics. She was snapped out of her fearful trance as several firecrackers went off and Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to lead the students back to their common rooms.

Percy immediately began to order the first-year students around as the Great Hall rumbled from so many moving as once. On the way out of the hall, Morgana grabbed Ron by the arm and pulled him aside into an alcove, letting the hordes of students move past them.

"Ron, Hermione and Liara don't know about the Troll!" she said quickly, the Weasley boy's eyes widening at the information. "We have to warn them before they run into it themselves!"

Ron's eyes hardened in determination and he nodded. She gave him a firm nod and brought up her omni-tool, searching for the trackers she had placed on Liara and Hermione both. Spotting them in the bathroom just a few corridors over, she set out quickly, Ron close behind as she moved. They had to hide behind a suit of armor as Professor Snape moved passed, heading in the direction of the third-floor corridor. At any other time, she would've wondered why he was heading there instead of the dungeons where the Troll was supposed to be, but currently she was more concerned about Liara and Hermione's safety.

Ron and Morgana moved for only a few moments more when the crimson-haired Spectre held up a hand. Her enhanced nose picked up a scent that reminded her of Thresher Maw guts in Tuchanka heat. Her ears picked up low grunting and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic, leathery feet. Ron pulled on her arm and pointed down the passage way on the left-hand side. Something big was moving toward them. They sunk back into the shadows and watched as the Troll lumbered into view. Twelve feet tall, the beast was granite gray, its bulky body covered in lumps, giving it the appearance of a boulder with a tiny coconut for a head. Its legs were short and thick, like tree trunks with flat, spikey feet. Morgana slapped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from gagging. It smelled even worse up close. Its absurdly long arms dragged a massive wooden club behind it, scraping the ground as it lumbered closer. The creature stopped at a doorway about eight meters down the hall and looked in. It waggled its goofy looking ear as though contemplating something before moving into the room.

Morgana had the thought to lock the beast in for a moment before she stiffened as a scream; one filled with terror; echoed from the room. It was the girls' bathroom. "HERMIONE! LIARA!" Morgana cried, already moving toward the door as fast as she could. Upon entering the doorway, she was greeted with the sight of the troll swinging its club at the shimmering bubble of blue energy. Liara had put up a barrier to prevent the troll from striking them. Unfortunately, as strong as her magic was, the troll was physically stronger. The club collided with the shield and shattered it, continuing to collide with the right side of Liara's body, sending the girl soaring into the opposite wall with a sickening crack!

Morgana's blood ran cold as Liara's limp body struck the floor. She looked to Hermione, the girl frozen in fear and horror, then to Ron, who simply nodded and moved forward, calling to the troll loudly while picking up random bits of debris to throw at the beast in order to distract it. The Spectre bolted to Liara's side and picked the girl up, resting the navy-blue haired girl on her lap as she searched for a pulse, sighing in relief as she found one. It was weak, but there. She was alive, for now. That relief was replaced by rage and fear as she heard the club collide with the tiled floor and Ron let out several curses.

She set Liara down carefully, brushing the girl's navy-blue hair from her face carefully before standing. She dug into her magic as she raised her right hand, palm up to stomach height, pulling the energy forth as she focused on her right hand. It was a technique she had originally developed for her biotics, an attack unique to her. It was based off something she had seen on the Television on Mindoir with her younger brother, Max, and had developed it years later with her Liara's help. The emerald magic swirled, coalescing in her hand as a swirling orb of power. However, as her rage and fear grew as thoughts of the possibility of failure ran through her mind, the magic became chaotic, hissing and spitting as the emerald energy became a sickly black-red color.

The air screeched in protest at the magic swirling in her palm, the sound attracting the troll's attention, the beast abandoning its pursuit of Ron and turning to her. At the sight of the spiraling orb in her hand, the troll roared, taking a stomping step toward her, club raised in preparation to crush her. It was too late. Images of all those close to her that she had failed to save flicked past her eyes. Her family on Mindoir, Private Jenkins, Kaiden, Mordin, Thane, Anderson. Never again. She would not lose anyone else. A rage-filled roar exploded from her throat as she charged, ignoring Ron and Hermione as they screamed for her to stop. She pushed her magic to her legs and pushed off hard, her arm thrusting the spiraling orb of black-red energy toward the troll. The troll never knew the danger it was in.

The orb collided with the leathery hide of the troll and began to tear into it, the wind within the orb made razor sharp by magic. For a split second, nothing happened. Then BOOM! The orb detonated, blasting a hole through the troll's chest and knocking the beast out of the bathroom, dead before it touched the stone floor of the corridor. She didn't acknowledge the pain from her arm from the strain using that attack with such a frail body. She looked to Ron and motioned her head toward Hermione, telling him to grab her. He nodded numbly and moved quickly, throwing Hermione's arm over his shoulder and carefully lifted her up. Morgana moved over to Liara and carefully lifted her off the dusty ground, careful to keep from jostling her injuries. She motioned with her head again as she moved toward the hole were the door was supposed to be, telling the boy to follow.

They were barely stepping over the troll's corpse when the trio heard a gasp of surprise. Their heads snapped right to see Professors McGonagall, Snap and Quirrell standing just down the hall, staring at the girl in astonishment.

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva was many things. Strict, rational and stoic to name a few. But when a scream could be heard echoing through the castle, she had felt her blood run cold. She, Severus and Quirinus had bolted toward the source. As they reached the corridor in question, they were shocked to see the Troll they had been searching for in the dungeons lying dead on the stone floor with a hole blown through its chest, right where its heart should've been. What had made her heart nearly stop was when Morgana Potter, The-Girl-Who-Lived, stepped out of the ruined doorway of the girls' bathroom carrying Ravenclaw student Liara T'Soni. For a split second, Minerva didn't see the intelligent and confident girl she'd come to enjoy in her classes. Instead, a grown woman stood in her place. Standing at least six feet tall and covered from the neck down in midnight black armor, the woman's pale skin shown in the moonlight that was leaking in from the window. Messy crimson hair framed her elegant face as piercing emerald eyes scanned her surroundings. The woman's elegant face was marked with battle scars, her eyes intense from what could only be the pain of war. The armor she wore was unlike any Minerva had ever laid eyes upon. Midnight black with a stripe of crimson going down her right arm, a crimson N7 insignia emblazoned on her chest plate, this woman was an intimidating sight. Then Minerva blinked and young Morgana was standing there again, watching her with a blank face, eyes void of all emotion as she began to move down the hall in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Minerva wondered for a moment if she'd seen anything at all.

Severus was the first to break the silence.

"POTTER!" he snarled as the girl walked by him without giving him a second glance. "What on earth did you do?!" Minerva frowned at the man. They had obviously been through an ordeal and he was acting as though they were to blame.

The girl kept moving, her Weasley friend trailing behind her with Ms. Granger's arm over his shoulder. She didn't stop at all, instead speaking in a toneless voice as she moved.

"Ron said something about Hermione he shouldn't have just after Charms ended. She got upset about it and came to the bathroom to hide from everyone. Liara followed her to comfort her. They didn't hear about the Troll, so Ron and I decided to come looking for them. When we got here, the troll was already entering." Ms. Potter's voice began to choke up. "Liara tried to protect herself and Hermione with a magic barrier. The troll smashed it and her with one swing."

Minerva stiffened. That explained why Ms. T'Soni was unconscious and why young Morgana was moving so smoothly. She didn't want to aggravate her injuries.

"I had Ron distract the Troll while I checked Liara's vitals to ensure she was still alive. Once I had ensured that she was safe, I dealt with the troll." Finished Potter.

Minerva flinched at how cold and clinical the girl sounded. 'Dealt with…' an eleven-year-old witch had killed a fully-grown mountain troll in such a violent fashion to protect her friends. The elderly woman had heard from Albus about how powerful the girl was for her age and had seen her after the girl had attacked the Malfoy boy for laughing at young Longbottom getting hurt. Now…she moved with the efficiency of a veteran soldier as she continued to move. Just what was this girl…?

Morgana Potter (Shepard)

Morgana refused to stop even as Professor Snape snapped at her. She kept moving. After she had finished her explanation, she listened with half-an-ear as both Ron and Hermione spoke up in her defense when Snape started throwing around accusations about how they had gone looking for the troll in the hopes attracting the attention of their fellow students. She didn't respond when Professor McGonagall tried to pry into how she killed the troll from her, Ron and Hermione. Instead, she hastened her pace ever so slightly as she spotted a line of blood leaking from the corner of Liara's mouth. The teachers followed closely, finally noticing her urgency to get moving. McGonagall tried to take Liara from her, but she pulled the navy-blue haired girl closer to her chest and accelerated again.

Before long, they were outside the Hospital Wing. Professor McGonagall waved her wand and the doors slid open silently, Karin Chakwas rushing forward as Morgana moved over to a bed and gently set Liara down upon it. She took several steps back as the older woman began looking over Liara in a frenzy. Before she could ask if the blue-haired Ravenclaw would be alright, an iron grip clamped onto her arm. Instinct took over and she lashed out, left fist driving into her assailant's stomach before she rolled over his back as he hunched over. She pulled his arm up behind his back and shoved him into the wall next to Liara's bed. Snape groaned in discomfort as his arm was force up in a way it was not meant to go. Silence reigned as she breathed heavily, her adrenaline still pumping after the encounter with the troll.

"Touch me again," she hissed in the man's ear. "And I'll break you in half." She released Snape's arm and pushed away from him, instead turning to this world's Chakwas with the question on her face.

The older woman nodded quickly, hesitant smile on her face. "She'll be fine. The troll didn't hit her as hard as it could've," Chakwas said as she gently poured a golden potion down Liara's throat. "She'll have to stay here in the Hospital Wing for a few days, but she'll make a full recovery."

Morgana visibly relaxed at the news, sinking into a chair next to the unconscious girl's bedside with a sigh of relief. Behind her, the teachers all shared a concerned look as Doctor Chakwas moved to check on Ron and Hermione, sending a pointed glare in Snape's direction as she led the other two students to the hospital beds. McGonagall quickly moved to Morgana's side as Snape open his mouth, the crimson haired girl visibly tensing again as she saw the man's mouth opening to spit out more accusations.

"Morgana," the Transfiguration teacher said, using her first name for the first time since she'd met the woman. "How did you stop the Troll?" Emerald eyes met grass green as the girl turned her head to the woman, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Morgana thought fast and came up with the quickest answer. She extended her hand, palm up and focused on her magic. Within moments, the emerald green orb was spinning in her hand, the wind visibly spinning around the baseball sized ball of magic. "It's something I came up with at the beginning of the year," she said, uncomfortable with the lie, but it was better than telling them she was a reincarnated soldier from an alternate future where sentient machines were killing everyone. "I had an itching feeling that I'd get sucked into a stupid situation, so I came up with this just for the occasion." She let the orb fade as she watched the teacher's face.

She scowled as McGonagall frowned and said, "But you're safe here, there's no reason for you to feel as though you were in danger." The professor frowns and Morgana gave a harsh laugh and pinned the woman with her emerald gaze.

"Safe?" she snarled. The girl stood, pointing toward the unconscious Liara. "Does that look like this school is safe to you? If this place was safe, most anyone would have to worry about is a bit of bullying!" The girl was almost shouting, barely remembering the injured girl next to her. "If this place was safe, a troll wouldn't have gotten in and hurt Liara! If this place was safe, then Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have told everyone that they'd die painfully just by going up to the third-floor corridor on the left-hand side! This place isn't safe, and I'm done putting my safety and the safety of my friends in your hands!" She glared at the teachers, who at least had the sense to look ashamed of their failure to keep them safe.

She glared at the "adults" for several moments before sitting down again and taking Liara's hand, holding it gently between her own. She quickly tuned out the teachers talking to Ron and Hermione, noticing that the two kids didn't rat out the fact that the attack she had used had been made of black-red, chaotic energy, not emerald green smooth energy. She gave a tiny nod when Professor Sprout said she'd have some food brought to them, since Ron and Hermione were under medical surveillance and she had declined McGonagall's offer to escort her back to the common room.

Once the teachers had gone, Sprout heading to get some food for them and the rest heading to deal with their respective Houses, Morgana cursed. Internally, she cursed herself for not being fast enough to keep Liara from harm. She cursed herself for letting herself become weak. She had let herself believe that her war was over, that she could be a half-way normal girl for once. But Fate, as it seemed, had other ideas. Once again, she would have to push herself to the brink in order to protect her friends. To hunt down whoever was pulling the strings in the shadows. She swore to herself right then and there, watching Liara's chest rise and fall in slumber, that she'd defend her friends. And if she died to protect them, then so be it.