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A Kind Of Magic

Chapter Three

Killer Queen

Morgana steeled herself, taking a deep breath before turning around. Professor Mcgonagall stood there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in a knowing sort of way at her. It struck Morgana, that although they had dealings with the same people so very often, and Morgana though not having gone to Hogwarts as a student, had been to the castle a few times, and obviously seen the woman before, but had never actually spoken to her. "Are you going to stand there gawking at me all morning, or are you going to explain why you have broken into my school for what appears to be the second time in less than a week?" Morgana gulped, not really entirely sure what she should say to this, if anything at all. Her mouth opened and closed once. "You think you are the only clever witch around here? I have more than just spells protecting my office, I can assure you of that." A show-off-ish sort of smile formed on the woman's lips for only a second, if that, and then her lips narrowed again, back into a thin line. "Now, for the last time, Ms. Evans, why have you come here?"

"To talk to the Headmaster," said Morgana, finally, at last, trying to gain some sort of bravado against the cleverness that of Minerva McGonagall. Her, Morgana's, palms were sweating and the sun was casting odd shapes around the hall from wherever the windows were, and Morgana really needed to get better at this. The Professors eyes only narrowed more and looked much too suspiciously at Morgana, with good reason, she supposed.

"Well, you can't possibly mean me," she said now, skeptically. "You must mean...-"

"Dumbledore," they said together. McGonagall looked very alarmed now, if not sightly angry.

"Dumbledore is dead, Ms. Evans, and I trust you remember that," she said, sternly. Morgana went to, clearly, obviously, mention the painting, but it seems the Professor was too quick for her. "That is nothing but fabric and paint, enchanted to hold a memory of a man, to ensure his legacy will live on. It should not be mistaken for the real thing and certainly cannot be trusted with any such life decision one might be making!"

She wasn't sure, but she swore McGonagall's voice leveled up an octave at every passing word, and she might explode soon if she kept going, so Morgana thought this might be the best time to step in. She had to be good at this eventually. She had to be charming, persuasive, good at getting exactly what she wanted. Was she taking a note from a life lived, that she barely remembered? Or perhaps one from Voldemort? Was being evil really a thing that she wanted to be? She was being penned this way now, but perhaps that was all fabric and paint too? Perhaps not...

"Please, Professor, I just have a few questions only he could answer," Morganan lied, well...that part wasn't exactly a lie, however, the next bit was. "About Lupin and...and Sirius." This seemed to work, because the teachers eyes softened slightly. Pulling on heartstrings, now that was pure evil.

"You are breaking into my school to hear foolhardy tales?" she offered, though, the bite that had been there before was gone. "Surely Sirius would have told you enough to fill a book before he-"

"You would be amazed at what Sirius didn't tell me when he was alive,"retorted Morgana. Professor McGonagall huffed, obviously fighting with herself about what she wanted to be done here.

"I will give you ten minutes," she finally breathed out, turning on a heel, but not before whispering a word or two that sounded an awful lot like Snow Leopard, she looked back at Morgana over her shoulder. "I knew Remus and Sirius very well too, Ms. Evans," said the Professor, plainly. "Do not for a second believe I think that you are only here to talk about your old friends."

And with that she was gone, but a spiral staircase had appeared and Morgana didn't dwell on her words too long, but instead, climbed the stairs.

XXX

"You're dying," said Merlin, matter-of-factly, Dumbledore looked up from his spot at his desk and raised a curious eyebrow."You've been cursed."

"What makes you say that?" the old Professor asked curiously, as if he only asked why Merlin had such a strange opinion of the weather. Merlin marched across the room and stood in front of the desk, flaked with specks of dust and all sorts of odd objects lay around on it, none of them interested Merlin.

"You're hand!" said Merlin, Dumbledore looked down at his, what appeared to be badly burned, hand, and considered it for several seconds. "I know a curse when I see one. I know what a curse sounds like, I didn't even have to see it."

"Ah, Merlin...you are very clever, indeed-"

"I'm not," said Merlin, cutting passed Dumbledore words. Dumbledore, always priding himself on being very, very good with words, stopped short and looked up at Merlin surprised. "I'm not clever, I'm old, very old..."

""As am I, Merlin," the man jumped back in, obviously trying to get to the point. "But I didn't ask you here to speak of my failing health," said Dumbledore. "No, I'm afraid that is inevitable, I have asked you here to talk about Morgana."

"What about her?" asked Merlin, before he realized what he was saying, it had been several months since he had heard anything about her, he didn't even know where she was. "I don't know where she is," he admitted. "I know the Auoror's who were protecting her died."

"It is most unfortunate..."

"Do you want me to go find her, Dumbledore? Because I don't-"

"Oh no," said Dumbledore, with a small, knowing, smile. "I know exactly where she is. She currently takes up residence at the Weasley family home, where I know she will be protected."

Merlin felt a little like Dumbledore was suggesting Merlin couldn't take care of Morgana, and that might possibly be true. But that being said, he really wasn't sure why Dumbledore had called him here then. "Okay...and...?" Merlin encouraged, Dumbledore never got to the point.

"I recently had a meeting with Remus Lupin," said Dumbledore, like this was supposed to matter to Merlin. Merlin blinked a few times, confused. "Due to my health I thought this must be done. I instructed him, that if anything should happen to me, once this war against Voldemort was over, he was to tell Morgana the truth."

"The-the truth?" gulped Merlin, he didn't like that idea at all. "Like what?"

"That...besides his Muggle relatives, Morgana is the only living relative of Harry Potter," said Dumbledore. Merlin stared, lost, and confused, and one million other things all at once.

"That's not true," he insisted. "She...she is Arthur's sister, not-"

"That she is," said Dumbledore, easily. "Morgana Pendragon, Mother's given name, Evans. Lily Potter, nee Evans..." Merlin's eyes widened, this had never accrued to Merlin before. He had heard her full name spoken before, but he never thought much of it. Evans, it was a Muggle name, and Harry's mother Lily, she had been Muggleborn. "Very popular this time, isn't she?"

Dumbledore was smirking, and Merlin shook his head. "Always," he said. But Dumbledore's smile fell and he became very serious again.

"I had Lupin give me his word, to tell her when the time deems itself worthy," he continued. "And I trust he will do as I ask. And now I beg of you, Merlin, once this fight with Voldemort ends, tell her where else her origins lie." And there it was, the reason for their meeting, Merlin shook his head. "I know you have told Arthur, does Morgana not deserve the same?"

No, Merlin thought, but didn't say it. "If you are so worried about it, why don't you just tell her everything now?"

"Now is not the time, I believe it is cruel to burden her with any more so soon after the death of Sirius, wouldn't you agree?" Merlin didn't care much about Sirius Black, and only shrugged. "Nonetheless, Merlin...do I have your word?"

Merlin wasn't too convinced, actually, not at all. "You think she'll turn, don't you? If she finds out now, she'll join Voldemort, won't she?"

"I am not even the slightest bit concerned," admitted Dumbledore. "But I can see you are."

"How could I not be?" asked Merlin. Dumbledore didn't know, he hadn't been there.

"Darkness is in all of us, Merlin," said Dumbledore. "You can not blame Morgana for mistakes she made in a passed life, no more than you can blame yourself for the making of those same mistakes."

XXX

Morgana closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them again and being met with a small snore from the painting just behind the large, Headmasters desk. She stopped there, not sure how to go about this, how does someone wake up a painting exactly? Just to the right of this painting was another, the backdrop was exactly the same, but the man who sat int he Headmasters chair had dark, black hair, that looked, even in ink and water colors, like it hadn't been cleaned in a long time. This man had not been asleep, like the other, and when seeing Morgana there, looked overtly irritated, slammed his book shut and got up, going out of frame. Morgana knew who he was, and just like with Mcgonagall, hadn't spoken to him, even when he was alive, either. He appeared in the painting with Dumbledore and shook the man's shoulder. Dumbledore woke with a start and looked out, at Morgana, fixing his glasses as he did so.

"Ah, Morgana," said Dumbledore, with a tone that said he obviously knew she had broken into the school grounds again, but was that really so important? She hadn't hurt anyone. "I daresay you got the book rather easily?"

Morganna hesitated, because Snape was still standing in the frame, next to Dumbledore, scowling, with a down cast sort of glare in Morgana's direction. "Oh, please," he said, in a dark droll. "Every painting in this school knows what your plan is, no need to stay silent now."His dark eyes traveled over to Dumbledore, as he continued. "Though, if not careful, one of us might let something...slip."

"Now, Severus, no need to scare the girl," said Dumbledore. Snape's dark eyes were slowly disappearing from view as his eyes turned more and more into slits. But he didn't say another word. "Did you find the book? "

"I took it," said Morgana, almost in a whisper, there had been no finding it, she had known where it was, it was only a matter of taking it, along with someones life. Dumbledore seemed to understand her meaning in what she hadn't said.

"Robert McNee had lived a long, fruitful, life," said Dumbledore, and somehow that didn't make Morgana feel better.

"But who is she to take it?" offered Snape, taking Morgana's thoughts right from her, restless, mind. Dumbledore glared at Snape.

"Do not pretend that you have not taken a life, Severus," he said, plainly.

"I am but a canvas with bitter thoughts," reminded Snape, before turning on his heel and marching out of frame, only to show up back in his own painting, glaring daggers in Dumbledore's direction. Dumbledore seemed to recover from Snape's annoyance with him rather quickly, and looked as if it was quite easy for him to forget he was there.

"If you have the book, what troubles you?" he asked.

'Do you think it will really work?" asked Morgana, and the Professor seemed to ponder over this question for several seconds before answering.

"In theory, yes, it should," he said. Morgana nodded her head, but in there were so many fears, what if she couldn't find all the Horcuxes, what if she couldn't kill Voldemort? What if even after all of the work she has done, it still didn't fix anything? "Yes, it is true, much more experienced witches and wizards have tried before, but perhaps their hearts just weren't in it?"