The Muggle

CHAPTER 3

Draconigenus

Lupin had volunteered to watch over Morgan that night, due to the state of Sirius' room, which he had promised to clean as soon as possible. That, in Sirius' language, was whenever he felt like it, so Lupin resigned himself and gathered a few books from the drawing room. After a few minutes, he was lost in the pages of a book full of deathly potions, when he sensed Morgan moving.

Morgan opened her eyes to a badly lit room; she was lying in a soft bed with a few pillows around her. She tried to focus her vision, but it blurred as the room whirled around her.

She closed her eyes, waited a second, and then opened them again. Her focus improved, and a dark, wicker cabinet appeared to her left. Morgan wrinkled her nose at a slightly musty scent that she could not quite identify.

Where was she? This was not her hotel room. As the previous events came rushing back into her memory, she became frightened, and her heart pounded rapidly. This was not the castle!

She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to clear her head. It throbbed painfully, as she willed herself to relax. When she opened them again, she noted movement on her right side. Someone was in the room with her! Immediately her heartbeat increased, and she found it difficult to breathe.

A man had risen from a chair, knocking a book to the floor. His face shrouded in the shadows, as he knelt beside her bed. She moved her eyes to look at him, his hand fell across her wrist in a quick grip. Morgan gasped for air, as he lifted his left hand and a few candles lit up on a nightstand next to her.

The dim light revealed a light-brown haired man; his pale face scarred, yet his kind blue eyes showed concern.

"Its all right," he said reassuringly, "you are safe here; no one is going to harm you."

He let out a long breath and some of the colour came back into his face, she could see two long scars going from his left temple to the right side of his chin.

"Where..." she murmured. Her lips felt cracked and dry.

"You were moved from Hogwarts to this house. Don't worry, everything will be all right," the man repeated.

"Water..." was all she could whisper.

"Certainly," he retrieved a small goblet from the nightstand. His arm came around her, lifting her as he helped her drink a few sips. "There, I think that's enough. My name is Remus Lupin, how are you feeling, Morgan?" he inquired, smiling at her warmly.

"I'm dizzy...head...hurts." Morgan felt her sight blurring again.

"I'll get you something."

Lupin promptly left the room. Morgan closed her eyes, exhausted. She felt as if she had been through major surgery, and was coming out of the anesthetic. Her throat still felt dry; the few sips of water had only made her feel more dizzy.

She must have dozed off, because when she opened her eyes again, there was a plump, redheaded woman sitting next to her, her hair shinning in the candlelight, as she bent down to put a goblet to her lips.

"Drink this dear, it will make you feel better."

Morgan drank the acrid liquid, and slid into darkness. Faintly, like sounds from a dream, she heard voices speaking softly, footsteps, and the rustle of clothes; cool hands and then the comfort of sleep finally came -- a dreamless sleep.

The next two days were rather hectic at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with people coming and going, not just because of the everyday meetings, but the waiting. Some of them had been close friends with the Darken family, and they were eager to learn what had happened.

Snape had come earlier to the meetings so he could deliver his latest concoctions, trying to elude thankful members of the Order who were always approaching him, grateful for his kindness towards Morgan. This made him angry and uncomfortable.

That day however, things turned worse when he walked into the kitchen looking for Mrs. Weasley. Instead of giving her the customary phial, he delivered Dumbledore's message.

"I have to deliver the potion personally," he snarled at Mrs. Weasley the moment he came into the kitchen; Sirius was having lunch and immediately looked up.

"Says who?" asked Sirius bluntly, leaning on his rear chair legs.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," Snape said, producing an envelope and handing it to Mrs. Weasley. Sirius sprang to his feet and snatched it before Mrs. Weasley could move.

Snape glared at him angrily and waited as Sirius sat back down, ripping the enveloped open and reading the small scrap of parchment.

"What kind of results are we expecting?" Sirius asked, leaning on the back legs of his chair again and frowning at Snape.

"Although you like to feel... involved in every affair of the Order Black, this particular piece of information is something between the Headmaster and myself," answered Snape in his quiet, waspish tone.

Sirius let his chair fall back onto all four legs. Mrs. Weasley was about to put an end to the bitter argument when the door to the kitchen opened and Lupin entered, smiling.

"Good Morning, Severus," he said with his customary smile.

Snape pulled out a phial containing a brownish liquid from his cloak, and placed it on the table so harshly that it almost fell to the floor. "You should drink this immediately Lupin, and now I must deliver the potion to Ms. Stone." He turned around to leave, but Lupin, sensing what was going on, grabbed the phial from the table and walked towards the door.

"Let me show you the way," he held the door for Snape as he walked angrily at his side.

They went up the narrow flight of stairs and walked through the dark hall. Ascending the dusty staircase, Lupin stopped at the landing.

"It is at the end of the corridor, the only room with light. Thank you again Severus," Lupin said quietly.

"Not at all," Snape answered through clenched teeth, walking towards the door.

Not only had Dumbledore saddled him with caring for the Werewolf, but now he must also look after the Squib? He could not imagine what else the headmaster could possible find to burden him with. He was already doing too much.

Snape silently opened the door and entered the room; it was very small, no paintings hanging from the naked walls only black, pealing paint. A bed, two wooden chairs, a pair of battered nightstands and an old cabinet were the only furnishings; a musty odour lingered in the air.

He approached the bed, his feet raising small clouds of dust from the old rug. The woman lying on the bed looked paler than before, her long red hair flowing over the white pillows, the bandage on her head had a small, bloody stain. Snape removed his gloves and placed them on the nightstand; He withdrew a small, green phial from his cloak and placed it there too.

Taking out his wand, he was ready to wake her up when he remembered how useless it had proven the last time, so he put it away. Doubtfully, he placed one hand on her shoulder and tried to wake her up. Morgan moved in her sleep and opened her eyes. She looked around sleepily, and then as she placed her eyes on him, they widened in surprise.

Snape moved closer to her and placed his cold hand under her head, helping her up as he placed the phial to her lips. "Drink," he whispered. Morgan drank the acrid liquid and wrinkled her nose as he carefully placed her head on the pillow. He loomed over her like a long, dark shadow. "You have to get up and walk."

Morgan looked at him in disbelief, "Walk?" she whispered to him, "I don't believe I can."

"You have to get up and walk so the potion can strengthen you," he directed her coldly.

Morgan could not see his face clearly, for it was concealed in the shadows. He did not move or talk to her again, so she realized she would have to get up and do what the horrible man wanted.

She pushed the blankets aside feeling chilled to the bone; it seemed like the cold had come into the room with him. As she sat on the bed, she felt the dizziness again. She was wearing a long white nightgown, so she was not worried about showing some skin; in fact, what worried her was her neck.

That man looked so evil, standing there in the dark, with his long, black robes and his thin arms crossed over his chest. He looked like an inquisitor ready to deliver a death sentence.

Gathering all her strength to get up, she carefully placed her bare feet on the old rug that covered the entire room. Snape stood a few feet from her; the candlelight cast ominous shadows across his pale face.

Morgan slowly stood, but as she did, she felt the room move around her. She would have fallen if a pair of cold, strong hands had not grabbed her. Snape pushed her towards the bed.

"Try to steady yourself first," he scolded her in his gruff voice, moving back to the shadows.

Morgan became angry, "I've been in bed for days, what did you expect?" she spat at him. "You should be helping me instead of nagging me!"

His eyes glittered in the dark; he stared at her for a long moment, and then unfolding his arms, stepped forward and extended his pale hands.

The moment she touched him, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Snape must have felt it too, since he let go of her so quickly that Morgan stumbled back against the bed. His face tinged with an ugly blush.

Morgan could see a muscle twitching in his cheek as he extended his hands again, but this time he did not let go. His hands were like icicles; he was so cold she could have sworn he was a corpse. This man had to be related to vampires - she expected to see his fangs any minute now.

Snape placed her hand on his left arm and guided her around the room. At first, she leaned on him, but after a few moments, she felt much better; a warm glow had enveloped her body, and it felt as if she were standing under a warm ray of sun.

As he finally guided her back towards the bed, Morgan felt so energized that she didn't feel like sleeping, but she did not protest his directions, she knew she had to recuperate so she could get back to America.

"Thank you for helping me," said Morgan risking a look at his face, which now had a healthy blush across his pale cheeks. His hands felt warmer now - more like those of a human being. Snape did not answer her. As soon as she was safely in bed, he left the room.

By evening, Morgan felt much better. Mrs. Weasley told her that all of her things had been brought up from the car, and been placed in the small cabinet inside the room. She also suggested that it would be nice if she could come downstairs and dine with them.

Finally, Morgan could take off the long nightgown and wear her normal clothes again. She had not brought anything posh, just a few jeans and trainers; she was going to be driving around, so she hadn't brought what she call her "working clothes". A pair of high-heeled boots was all the elegance she had permitted herself on this holiday.

She dressed at top speed, thinking of the warm food. She felt a little cold, but the thought of having company and dining at a table, made her eager to leave that dark, musty room.

Sirius had silently entered Lupin's room and looked at the petite woman brushing her hair next to the bed. She was not very tall; she barely reached his shoulders, and the jeans and t-shirt made her look like a teenager. She was not too thin, like some Muggle women he had seen on the street when he accompanied Harry to King's Cross. She did not notice him; she was busy brushing her long thick mane of red hair. He felt his hands itching to touch it, it looked so soft and silky, but he quickly remembered his manners and knocked on the open door, which make her turned.

Morgan stared at the tall, dark-haired man who was standing next to the open door. He wore a rather shabby set of grey robes, and his long, sleek black hair shone in the candle light; he had beautiful grey eyes and a very charming smile.

"Welcome, I'm Sirius Black," he said approaching with his hand extended. They shook hands.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Black," Morgan said, smiling.

"Hell, don't call me that! Mr. Black was my father - I'm Sirius." He flashed his smile again.

"Well then, you must call me Morgan," she said, returning his smile. This man might prove to be a danger to her nerves! He was much too handsome, she thought.

"All right, Morgan. Suppose we go down, and I'll introduce you to the others."

Morgan let him guide her out of the room; she wrinkled her nose, taking in the musty odour in the passage.

"We've been trying to clean this place up a bit, but it's going to take a lot of work. There's still much to be done," Sirius informed her.

As they reached the first landing of stairs, Sirius openly examined her. The old-fashioned gas lamps cast a flickering, insubstantial light across her face. Her complexion was of ripe apricots, not pale buttermilk, as her hair might have suggested. Freckles spread over her nose and cheeks, making her look girlish. Her eyes were the colour of his favourite firewiskey. She smiled at him and he realized he had been staring. They reached the second landing walking side by side. Morgan was not beautiful, but Sirius found her sharp features attractive. She looked real - not like all those plastic beauties he had surrounded himself with in his younger days.

Descending the stairs, Morgan stopped abruptly, horrified by the sight of the House-elf's stuffed heads hanging from the wall.

"My God! What is this?" she asked, turning towards Sirius. "Are they human?"

"No," Sirius answered, shrugging uncomfortably, "they were House-elves," he explained to Morgan. "They were servants."

"WHAT?"

"Shh," Sirius whispered, grabbing her arm and placing a finger on her lips. "Please, we have to be quiet. I'll explain later. It's all right." He pushed her down the stairs. They crossed an ugly, musty hall and descended another flight of stairs.

Morgan frowned at Black. Servants! She wanted to strike him! He killed and stuffed his servants to display them like trophies? This place was getting uglier by the minute! The people at the castle seemed all right - with the exception of the Nosferatu, but this fellow had seemed decent, aside from the fact that he was so handsome.

As they opened the door, she found herself in a large, underground kitchen; with floor and walls made of stone, resembling a cave. There was a huge fireplace at the end of the room, and a long wooden table with many people seated around it. Morgan felt a shiver going down her spine, the place was dimly lit, and she felt fear creeping over her. But why? She was not afraid of dark places. She shook herself, and entered the kitchen.

It seemed that all the people had been talking about her, because the second she entered, a heavy silence fell over the group. They all looked directly at her, which only increased her feeling of awkwardness.

Morgan was taken aback by their attention and their smiles. Who were these people?

The only person glaring at her was the vampire, reacting as if his most hated enemy had entered. Morgan unconsciously raised her chin.

As she walked over to the table, she saw how the others beamed at her, as if they knew her. "Is there something wrong?" she asked Sirius, looking at all the smiling faces.

Sirius answered with a quick shake of his head, "No, of course not. They're just happy to see you."

He motioned her to a chair between himself and another man. She remembered seeing him, the first time she opened her eyes, "Hello, Remus," she said sitting next to him. Lupin nodded, and smiled in return. At this short distance, she could see that his scars were not smooth and straight like a normal facial operation, but uneven - they almost seemed like claws marks.

"How are you feeling today, my dear?" asked Dumbledore, who was seated at the head of the table, candlelight shinning on his long silver beard.

"I'm improving, thank you," she answered him awkwardly, still not understanding why these people were smiling at her.

"I have a few questions that I would like to ask you, if you wouldn't mind," Dumbledore began.

"Very well."

"Would you be so kind as to tell us your parents' names?" asked Dumbledore leaning on his chair.

Morgan looked at them suspiciously. Why would these strange people want to know about her parents?

"My mother's name was Brenna, and my father's was Raen."

Morgan saw sighs of relieve on their faces. There was a man at the end of the table whose face was badly scarred, and he had a very strange crystal eye.

"Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself? We would love to learn more about you," Dumbledore told her. Snape grimaced, listen to that Squib's dull, stupid life was nothing but appealing to him.

Morgan felt uneasy; these people were quite strange. Yet, they had helped her, and if they had any bad intentions, they would have had their chance to harm her when she was wounded and helpless. She felt Sirius watching her. Turning to look at him, he winked, reassuringly, encouraging her to answer.

"Yes, please do tell us," he whispered, so that only she could only hear him.

She cleared her throat; this man was clearly going to be a distraction to her. She turned to look directly at Dumbledore, trying to ignore the others, whose staring made her uncomfortable.

"I was born in Arizona, and my father died shortly after I was born. My mother was a nurse. We moved around quite a bit, until we settled in a little town near the desert. She died five years ago."

She heard a faint noise, and looked at the strange man at the end of the table, wearing a pained expression on his scared face. She continued talking unable to tear her eyes away from him. "I'm a history teacher at a local college. I knew my parents were English so I decided to come here and see the country. A few days ago, I had an accident near your castle and now, well, I don't know what to think. I never believed in magic or witches, or those kinds of things - but now... I'm not so sure anymore."

Morgan glanced around the table, as reactions of worry, sadness, and concern followed her disclosure.

"What is going on here?" she asked Dumbledore feeling a little frightened by the situation.

"We understand that you must fell very confused at this point, Morgan. I shall try to explain in an easy, understandable way, why I asked you all these questions," Dumbledore promised her.

"All right," Morgan said. She had already heard their fantastic story once; she would give them a chance to explain again.

"Your grandfather was Seward Darken. He was a Seeker, one of the very best I might add, and I don't mean as in Quidditch, but as a hunter," explained Dumbledore, noting her blank expression.

"You mean that he killed animals?" she asked.

Dumbledore and some of the people sitting at the table laughed. She looked around and saw the thin man in black glaring at them.

"You could say that, yes. He was a hunter, but he didn't hunt animals - but dark wizards." Dumbledore watched her as she blinked, appalled. "You see, Morgan, there has been a rather nasty war going on among us, for some years now. There is one who is determined to rule us like a dark king; he calls himself Lord Voldemort." Everyone at the table shuddered at the name. "We have been fighting to protect our society from him and his followers. He is a ruthless killer who will stop at nothing to destroy our world. We are not only fighting him, but also the witches and wizards who have joined him over the years, following his orders and killing not only our kind, but also Muggles."

"Muggles?" wondered Morgan again.

"Non-magical people," whispered Sirius patting her hand.

"These Dark Wizards," continued Dumbledore, "call themselves Death Eaters, and your grandfather captured them and brought them to justice. We have laws just like in the Muggle world, and we have people trained to handle this situation. The Darken family have been Seekers for centuries. Their knowledge on the Dark Arts and obscure magic is legendary. Therefore, when our Aurors and Unspeakables failed, there was always a Darken ready to take up the impossible task - and they usually succeeded."

"Your family, Morgan, is highly respected in our world; they have been the keepers of many secrets, and powerful dark magic which no one in our world knows about. Voldemort tried to persuade Seward to join his Death Eaters. He wanted the secrets kept by your family. He needed that power to rule, but Seward not only refused him but also warned him to mend his ways or he would destroy him. But, Voldemort struck first.

Morgan felt confused and afraid. Powerful magic, dark secrets? She wondered.

"One cold September night, Voldemort and a group of young Death Eaters went to his manor. There was a birthday celebration and the entire family was together under the same roof, a magnificent opportunity to destroy your family. We do not know to this day, who betrayed them, but we have good reason to believe that it was someone on your grandmother's side of the family, because a few of them are Death Eaters."

"And so your family was destroyed, or at least, so we thought. From what you tell me, you didn't know you were actually born here, in Britain," Dumbledore revealed.

"Here? But my mom..." mumbled Morgan.

"Yes, Morgan, we know that your mother must have told you that, in order to protect you. The war was raging and she didn't want to endanger you," he answered.

Morgan nodded, trying to understand this new piece of information. She was British, then.

"Your mother also told you that your father was dead - we have no idea what could have happened to him, but there is something else," said Dumbledore, looking at her intently. "You had a brother, a twin brother."

Morgan leaned on the chair feeling sick; she placed a hand on her weary head and glanced down. She felt Black's hand on her shoulder, and his other hand covering her own. A few seconds passed in silence, and then she heard a faint noise in front of her.

"Drink this," said the cold voice as Snape placed a small goblet in front of her.

She let go of Sirius' hand and drank the potion. It tasted sweet. Anger was beginning to swell up inside her. She turned towards Lupin, He now had his hand on her shoulder as well, and a warm smile on his thin lips.

"I... I really..." Morgan was so angry that she was stammering. A brother, a twin brother? What the hell was this, a fucking daytime soap opera?

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you," said Morgan harshly. "This is ridiculous. My mother would never hide something like that from me."

"Try to think about it, Morgan," said Remus, pressing his hand on her shoulder. "If your father and brother had died that night, she wouldn't have wanted to bother you with all that pain. Besides, she thought you would never return to Britain - perhaps she thought that even if curiosity brought you back to this country, you would never find us, so she just dismissed the idea of causing you more pain."

"It sounds possible, Remus," added Dumbledore. "That might be why you didn't know about Sevarin."

Morgan stared, Sevarin? What kind of name was that?

"So, he is dead, and so is my entire family due to this lunatic, right?" Morgan demanded, angrily looking around the table.

"Yes, and now that you are here alive," Dumbledore explained, "we are plaguing you with these questions, because we were friends of your family. We were eager to hear what you knew about them, but it seems that for reasons of safety, your mother spared you all that information."

"Headmaster, if I may speak, how sure are we that this woman is, in fact, Seward Darken's granddaughter?" the vampire inquired coldly. Morgan noted how everyone mumbled and glared at him.

"Severus," said Remus, "seriously, I don't believe that was..."

"Well, he is right," Morgan said, nodding. They all looked at her amazed, even the vampire, but she was tired of this long, lost relative bullshit. "What makes you think that I am who you think I am? Was there a picture of me, or do I have a birth mark, or something?" she asked, thinking wildly of any other stupid, cheesy remark she could throw out to them. "Or a magical objects that I possess, what gives you such certainty?"

They all looked at her, amazed. Dumbledore frowned. Suddenly, the man at the end of the table stood, and limped along the other side of the table until he was standing right in from of her. He raised his wand.

"Protect yourself, then." Morgan looked at him as if he were mad. Remus and Sirius quickly jumped to their feet, but they were too late. Moody had cried out, "Stupefy." Morgan saw a red light come out from the tip of his wand. She instinctively raised her hands and felt the warmth filling her body. The light bounced back at Moody, who fell, sprawled on the floor. They were all screaming and running, some to attend to the fallen man, others to Morgan.

"Are you all right?" said Lupin anxiously; Sirius was next to him, his gaunt face twisted with anger.

"What in the name of the devil in hell is wrong with you!" screamed Sirius turning at Snape, who was standing next to Dumbledore, prepared to use his wand.

Snape's pale face produced a horrible grin as he automatically raised his wand at Sirius.

"There is no need for that," said Lupin, getting in front of Sirius and Morgan.

Moody got up from the floor, aided by Professor McGonagall and Dedalus. Pale and shaking, he somehow managed to smile.

Morgan froze beside Lupin, not knowing what to think. Had the old man just attacked her?

"Well," said Moody, sitting on a nearby chair, his good eye and magical eye both fixed on Morgan. "I think your question has been answered Snape. We can all be assured that this is Seward Darken's granddaughter."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore walking towards her, "but there was no need for that kind of demonstration. Are you all right," he asked, approaching Morgan, who remained with one hand on her neck.

"Yeah... I ... well, yes." She felt her hands shaking, as Sirius put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She allowed him to do it, because she felt that her legs would not hold her much longer.

Sirius drew her towards her chair, then looked directly into her frightened face.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked, crouching in front of her and taking her hand. Morgan was very cold.

"Yes, but...what did he do to me?" the young woman queried, needing to make sense out of what had just occurred.

"It was just a small jinx," Moody explained, smiling.

"Dumbledore, what is the meaning of this?" asked Hestia, standing.

It seemed to be the question that everyone was about to ask, since they were all staring at Dumbledore. However, as he was about to answer her, Moody spoke again.

"Well, my friends, as we all know, the Darken family knew a lot of dark, forgotten secrets, and this is yet another one," he mused, looking directly at Morgan. "But, the strength by which she deflected the jinx is something I never expected, did you Albus?"

Dumbledore looked around, "I really can't say at this point."

They were talking as if she had some kind of disease, which needed treatment. "What do you mean?" she asked, in a whisper, her temper rising again.

"Let's all sit down, please," said Dumbledore, moving towards his chair. "Severus there is no need for that," he whispered as he sat down beside Snape, who was still pointing his wand at Sirius.

Snape pocketed his wand and returned to his chair, his cold dark eyes still fixed upon him. Morgan thought they must hate each other, since Sirius was staring at Snape with the same expression and a sly smile. He seemed amused.

"Ever since our last meeting, I've been thinking of an old, forgotten legend from the past. It started when we were unable to understand why there where witches and wizards born in a perfectly normal wizarding family who were unable to perform magic. This was long before the term Squib was used in our society. Many tests and potions were developed to help these witches and wizards, but none of them worked. Except for a handful who could actually produce small amounts of magic, they were usually categorized as Squibs. However, it's not an accurate way of delineating them from us - since they were actually capable of some magic. I know it's confusing. These people seemed to absorb magic and be able to return it with an equal amount of force. This was usually discovered when the person was attacked, just as we saw now. But this," he said seriously, "is different."

"Exactly," added Moody with his eyes still fixed on Morgan.

"Alastor, I believe you cast a very weak spell on her," said Dumbledore to Moody who nodded in agreement. "So the outcome should've been something weak and not very strong. But, as you all saw, the spell bounced back three times stronger, which is quite extraordinary."

They looked at Morgan who was still very pale, watching them all.

"That is why I think we should do a few more simple tests to see the outcome and arrive at a conclusion," Dumbledore advised, "Morgan do you agree?"

Morgan stared at them. Whatever had just occurred had been a great shock to her. She could still feel the warmth in her hands and body. Was she prepared for something like that again?

"Why?" she asked softly. "Why do you want to know? Is it important somehow? I'm leaving this country as soon as I feel better, and I really don't wish to have anything to do with...this. Even though you say you care about my mother and her family, I don't know you... and frankly, I'm scared of you - all of you."

Sirius had moved back to his chair, and Lupin regarded her with his eyebrows raised. Snape had a distasteful look on his face. So much for Darken, he thought bitterly. Everyone thought of them so highly and they were no better than any self-respecting Death Eater. The fact that they liked playing fair wasn't much of a difference. He knew she would think of her precious skin first than saving anybodies life. Maybe she was Darken's granddaughter after all. She was showing true Slytherin behaviour.

"You must remain here. You owe it to your family," Moody urged her, making Snape coming back to reality. "If you are who I think you are, then this war is already won!" He thumped the table with his fist, knocking over a goblet.

"Well I'm sorry," said Morgan, her voice stronger now, "but I'm not going to go into a... a war for something I don't have anything to do with. I don't know you or your world."

"It's not only about winning a war Morgan," Moody explained. "It's about saving lives; it's about taking action against absolute evil. If you don't help us, your family's sacrifice," Moody said pointing a shaky finger at her, "your mother's sacrifice is worth squat!"

Morgan didn't answer, but Moody could see her cheeks tinged with pink, as everyone stared at them. Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

"Mad-Eye, would you care to reveal to us what do you mean by all this?" Lupin inquired nervously, looking at all the shocked faces. "Why are you pressing her?"

"Everyone has heard of the Chamber of Secrets, right?" asked Moody watching them.

"Why, certainly but what does it have to do with Morgan?" Lupin asked, again.

"Well, I think Snape here would be the appropriate person to explain this to you, since he is Head of Slytherin House?" Moody said, sitting down.

Snape looked at Dumbledore who nodded to his silent question.

"As you all know, the Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar Slytherin, one of the four Hogwarts founders," Snape began, in his cold voice. "The legend says that it would serve his rightful heir in order to lay out his own personal purposes, which was far from the truth. When Slytherin began building it, he found a huge natural cave that was under the castle."

"He felt a strong power drawing him towards that location, for in those times the castle was not as big as it is now. The natural cave was sealed by a powerful spell, and he needed a particular enchantment to open it up. He tried several magical enchantments, but none proved effective; so he studied every story related to hollow hills and shrines around the country. The one that attracted his interest was the Legend of the Crystal Cave."

Morgan noted how everyone gaped with surprise, she looked at him in disbelieve, they weren't talking about that Arthurian rubbish?

"This made Slytherin all the more interested in opening the cave. He finally stumbled upon the exact words to open it, aid by a very old druid's manuscript, but as legend states, he was not able to retrieve whatever was inside. Several tales and legends have sprung up around these facts, but one is particularly significant. It said that only a wizard that would not be able to perform magic on his own would be able to enter the cave and release its mysteries. He would be born under the dragon-star...a true draconigenus."

His cold gaze fell upon Morgan, but she stared back at him, unblinking. That was the reason, then, she concluded, understanding at last.

"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore said, "Seward, being a good Slytherin, knew all these legends and folk tales. He was obsessed with them, and he became quite an expert on the matter. He travelled around the world searching for similarities in other countries' folk legends. Finally, he concluded that what was inside the cave was power - pure and absolute Magic -, which could be used either for good or for evil, depending upon the recipient. When Morgan and Sevarin were born, he made an astral chart for them, and discovered what the Celtics called the dragon-star high in the sky. Which made him believed that they were the ones able to open the Chamber. Regretfully, he never shared the rest of his findings with me, before he and his family were murdered. And now, Morgan, you have come back to us to turn the tide, and bring hope to help us win this war."

"We are not asking you to risk your life in vain for something you don't know of or comprehend. I ask you, not as a duty, but as a courtesy to stay among us, get to know us, and then decide if you want to help us. If you do, I promise you that we will protect you, and help you in any way that you'll allow."

Morgan felt her eyes itching with contained tears, as she thought about what Moody had said about her mother's sacrifice. He was right; if her mother had sacrificed something, then it was her duty to see it through to the end! She would help them; she knew that now. "All right. I'll remain", she said.

Moody's frightful face twisted in what appeared to be a warm smile; Dumbledore smiled at her and nodded.

"Well, Molly, I hope we haven't ruined your excellent dinner," Dumbledore said, to Mrs. Weasley as she got up to serve dinner, assisted by her son Bill, and Hestia.

"This I had seen in the stars, and heard in the wind: it was I, my gods had told me,

Who would bring this to pass; this I been born for. In that night lashed by storm

And brooded over by the dragon-star, death had seemed commonplace,

And Gods waiting visible, at every corner."

Myrddin Emrys

The Hollow Hills.