Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters from Harry Potter. Only thing I own is Morgan's plot and her character.

AN: Hey everyone, this is my story of Morgan Malfoy, Draco's younger sister. Please Read and Review, if I get one review I write another chapter, that's my constant rule Hope you like it! Since this is based on a RolePlay from Omegle, half the credit goes to Peter for roleplaying Draco Malfoy. Enjoy! ~JT

The cold floor sends chills through my soft feet as I brush the soles against the stone. My fingers lace through the flossy threads of the black quilt. My silky blond hair falls into my face and I brush it away with a wave of my pale fingers. The mattress under me is soft, but I don't want to sleep. There's unease in my heart, both soft and tender but hardened at the core. No one would suspect under my calm face that I won't be able to sleep tonight.

As I watch my brother fiddling with his sleeves and running his fingers through his blond hair, his pale face riddled with hidden traces of pain and desperation, my uneasiness finds itself a place and turns into fear. Fear for him. If something happened to him, the older boy who was once afraid of thunder, who dried my tears in the depths of the night, whose eyes appear in every of my frail thoughts, I don't know what I'd do. Throw myself off the top tower of the Manor, probably.

I stand up and the elaborate, heavy folds of my nightgown slither onto the tiles. I'm sure the moonlight is lighting my face. It always seems to seek me out. My pale, thin features must come from the night.

My voice sounds hardened and I turn it into gentleness mid-word. It never sounds like the voice of my mind.

"Draco?"

He turns quickly. 'What?'

In a few quick, precise strides that makes my waist-long hair fan out behind me, I walk straight to him. This time I don't hide the pain in my voice. I can feel my lips moving. I can feel the breath escaping them. But I can hardly hear the words I whisper, although they echo in my mind.

"I know everything. You don't have to hide it from me."

"You don't know anything!"

My fingers grasp the hem of his left sleeve and I can feel his arm jerk away from me, but it's too late and I've yanked his sleeve above his elbow.

Although I've known and guessed for quite some time now, it's still like a hit in the face of being dunked into cold water. Draco Malfoy, my brother who lent me his broomstick and comforted me over lost teddy bears is no longer a boy. And he's joined them. So many nights I'd prayed for him never to stay off the right path and fall into the abyss designed for him. I saw the shadows crossing his silver eyes before, turning them stormy grey, but I've never seen them black as they are now. Not elaborate, overlapped with emotions… just black.

I step back and my fingers grasp the empty air, holding on to the emptiness that I've known my whole life, but the air itself seemed to be gone and I had nothing to hold to except my own knowledge, my own hidden flames that no one's ever saw. Through all these years, hardly a person can be said to have known me.

His eyes turn to me and pierce me like a spell. His voice tames my fire, freezing the flying ashes and sending them plummeting to the ground.

"I have no choice! He's going to kill me!"

Before I know what I'm doing, my fingers are weaving themselves through his hair and my head is resting on his shoulder. When I speak, I don't choose my words. They don't come from within. They come from everything around me: the oak beds, the dusty quilts, the unevenness of the ceiling that I've always loved, except a Malfoy girl isn't supposed to love. Or cry, for that matter, but I can feel the burning sting of tears on my cheeks.

"I'll find you a way," I manage to gasp out. "I'll find you a way out if it's the last thing I do.

I can feel the tips of his fingers pressing hard on my shoulders as he pushes me back so that I'm looking at him.

"No, Morgana. There isn't a way. There's nothing you can do."

"There is one thing."

He runs his hand through his soft blond hair. I know exactly how it feels because I've played with it a lot, It's usually accompanied by him laughing. I'm not thinking about what I'm saying, I'm thinking about him. Only him. This rarely happens to me. Everyone thinks I'm a delicate little rosebud used to being treated like a princess. But I'm not that. I'm a soldier who would give anything to save the ones they love.

"Let me do it, Draco. Let me do it instead of you."

There's a silence that seems like forever. Maybe it is forever.

"No! No, I'm not letting you! No, Morgan, if you think I'll-"

I quickly interrupt him as a good sister would. "My magic is by no means inferior to yours. Besides, you'll be instantly suspected the second you cross the threshold of Hogwarts. Who is more likely to be planning murder: Draco Lucius Malfoy, or fifteen-year old Morgan? Remember, they don't think I'm right in the head. And if I fail… " I quieten slightly. "I'm not afraid of death."

"No. Never. If you think I'm going to stand here and let you sacrifice yourself for me-"

I sit on the bed again, picking up the weight of my nightgown with my light fingers. I have a thousand things to say to him, but none of them will convince him. He's determined to do this. "Go to sleep."

He points at me, his hand shaking violently. "This conversation is NOT over."

"No, it's not." I feel a sickening weight in my stomach as I lie to my brother. "But we'll continue in the morning. I'm so tired, Draco, come on…"

He slips into bed in the darkness after I've turned out the lamp. I know because I can hear the quilts ruffle. Only he does that. It's odd how much I notice about him. But I guess it's hard to live with someone for fifteen years and not know them. And I realise I'll never forgive myself if I let him do this.

The second I hear his even breathing, I throw the covers off my legs and walk across the bare floor to the window, the frost biting my skin. I scribble a hurried note to Draco on the table. It's excruciatingly simple, but I haven't got time to explain, he's a light sleeper.

Dear Draco,

I'm sorry.

~Morgana

Hoping desperately he'll understand, I slide the window open and climb out, my dress catching on the cracks in the bricks. I climb steadily and carefully down, my eyes closed, then when it's not too high I jump and land softly in a patch of grass, wincing slightly from the impact. Some journeys are meant to be taken alone.

As an owl hoots in the distance I turn my face to the moonlight.

Thank you for reading, please review! I love you all! Going to camp so the new chapter might not be up for a while ~JT