Pettigrew's Daughter

Pettigrew's Daughter

By Anda

PART TWO

Harry rejoined Morgiana at the door to the Potions Classroom, noting that the wall had been repaired. Morgiana was frowning, as if trying to work something out. "What did Professor Snape say?" he asked her.

"He wants me to come back after tea for some extra work," Morgiana said. "He hasn't given me anymore detentions, which I s'pose is good."

"How did the wall get fixed?" Harry said, regarding the rocky expanse she leaned against.

"It fixed itself," Morgiana replied. "It just sort of grew shut. I don't really know how to describe it. It just sort of happened. It was kinda spooky - the walls at my old school never did that." she patted the wall, with a suspicious look on her face, as if she expected to fall through it.

"Things are different at Hogwarts. It takes a while to get used to," Harry said, then added, thinking of Neville, "some people never do."

"I don't think I will get used to it! It's just too weird, the walls and the floors and the staircases seem to breathe and move as though the building itself were alive. I don't know about you, but I like inanimate objects to stay in one place, myself."

"But you're from a magic family," Harry argued. "Surely you've encountered this sort of thing before either at home or at school-"

"Mum runs a magic-free household, Harry," Morgiana said slowly. "After what happened to my father, she does not touch the stuff. She doesn't even own a wand! Our house is in a muggle area-"

"So you were brought up as a muggle," Harry was surprised and it showed in his voice.

"No- Not exactly- I've always known about magic and Mum's never tried to stop me learning... she says that if I didn't start it at an early age, I'd want to when I am older and then- I'd be out of control. Sort of like how I am now," she mused. "I wouldn't expect you to understand her logic. I don't understand it myself," Morgiana's voice sank to a whisper, "She was a duellist once, Harry. One of the best in Britain, if not the world. I've seen the photographs, the certificates, the cups she won. I've held the gloves she used to wear, smelt them, felt how soft they were and how tiny her hands were- are. And she gave that all up when my father died... I don't really understand it - I'd expect her to want to protect herself from- from anyone. But she doesn't want to. She's broken. She doesn't want to fight. All the fight left her when my father died. I never understood it until I knew the truth about what had happened to him. Sometimes I feel like I'm living with half a person..."

Harry was conscious of the silent tears rolling down Morgiana's face. He could feel her hot breath blowing against his cheek, so close yet so far away. He wanted to do something- anything- to help her. But he couldn't. Something about her stance, the pain and anger in her eyes, stopped him. Her brown eyes held his for a moment, understanding what he was thinking but forbidding his help. She let out a deep breath and said in a ragged voice, "Where'd that dog go?"

"I don't know," Harry said. It was the truth, he didn't know where Sirius had gone after he'd spoken to him.

"I don't think that they should allow animals inside the school," Morgiana muttered. She wiped her sleeve across her face, merging hair with tears and streaking red.

"Why don't you like dogs?" Harry asked.

"I never said that I didn't like dogs," Morgiana snapped, more harshly than she wanted to. "Look, we'd better get to class- What have we got now?"

"Transfiguration," Harry said. "With Professor McGonagall."

**

Professor McGonagall fixed Harry and Morgiana with a cold glare. She pointed to the clock on the wall, indicating that they were twenty minutes late. "Where have you been?" she asked, in a frosty tone.

"I'm sorry I am late, Professor-" Harry began.

"Professor Snape held me in after Potions class," Morgiana said. "Harry knew that I didn't know where to go next so he waited for me. It's my fault we're late."

"I'm sure it is," the Professor replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "Tell me, why did Professor Snape keep you in after class?"

"You mean that the rest of the class hasn't told you?" Morgiana snapped.

"They have," Professor McGonagall said. "I'd just like to hear it from you. You can see me after class about it." she motioned to them to take a seat at the back of the classroom.

"That went well," Morgiana hissed to Harry as she took a seat next to Seamus Finnigan.

"It went brilliantly," Seamus said. "You're the new girl right?"

"Morgiana Pettigrew," Morgiana replied. "Who are you?"

"Seamus Finnigan," said Seamus. "And this is Dean and Neville."

"Nice to meet you all," Morgiana whispered. "What are we s'posed to be learning?"

"Transfiguration," Neville said.

Morgiana was about to snap, "I know that!" but stopped herself by biting her tongue. Instead she said, "Oh. Thank you."

**

That night, Morgiana had one of the strangest dreams she'd had in her life. She had quite a few before - 'Nightmares', her mother called them. This one, however, was different. It was almost as though it were happening in real life. All of her senses were awake - her sense of smell and taste especially.

Her mother sat in a chair beside the fire. It was her favourite chair, Morgiana remembered, the one with the horrible cerise-coloured paisley pattern on it. She was knitting something blue with large wooden needles. Morgiana put her hand into her mother's knitting bag and felt the wool. It was coarse and prickly. Her mother didn't seem to notice that she was there. She just went on knitting. Morgiana stroked her mother's long dark hair, it was soft and fine, but duller than she remembered, streaked with whites and greys. When did her mother get so old? Morgiana asked herself, knowing the answer already. Her mother had always looked like that since before she could remember. Stress had turned her hair white and worn her face to wrinkles. She'd been a beautiful woman once, but was no longer.

A long, dark shadow fell across her mother's face as something or someone blocked the light from the fireplace. Her mother shrunk back into her chair, her eyes watering with recognition, "It's you," she whispered, barely breathing. "How did you get in?"

In the absence of light from the fire, Morgiana couldn't see the figure's face or features. She guessed it was a he because his hair was close cropped. He smelt like the sewers, his body so engrimed with dirt that she wanted to vomit. His hands were hidden inside his coat one of them, groping for something. A flash of silver and he had it in his hand, a flask. He un-corked it with his teeth and took two swigs, gulping it down like a pelican. Morgiana could taste the rich aroma of brandy in the air.

Her mother stood up, dropping her handiwork on the floor next to her bag. She took two steps toward the man and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. She was a short woman, yet the man was barely taller than her. "You smell like a sewer," she said, her voice no longer breathless, but its husky, normal self. "You'd think that with all the money I've been giving you, you'd be able to get some new clothes instead of buying yourself more grog."

"I will," the man said. "Have patience." He kissed her quickly on the lips. Her mother didn't pull back, just strengthened the grip on his shoulders, supporting herself with both hands. It was the man that pulled away, speaking slowly in a coarse tone, "My money has stopped coming and the girl's not a Storax anymore. Where is she?" her mother shivered violently, but said nothing. The man shook her, "Answer me! Wouldn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Morgiana's mother said.

"Where is she? She's mine, remember? I should know where she is." The man kissed her again.

Iris shuddered, "She got expelled... again - in everything but name. They politely asked her not to return next year - this year."

"So where is she now?" the man asked, kneeding Iris's shoulders.

"I don't know," Iris said. She shrugged out of his grip and shuffled toward the kitchen, her pink slippers slowing her down. "You must be starving - do you want me to get you something to eat? I've got some left-over chicken from the other-"

The man interrupted, "Your own daughter and you don't know where she is?"

Iris took a deep breath, "She's at Hogwarts. McGonagall said it was the best place to be. You and I both know that's not true."

"McGonagall - she's your great-aunt isn't she?"

"Aunt." Morgiana's mother said as she bent over to see into the fridge. She jiggled a few dishes and cans until she finally selected the one she wanted. "She's a bit of a nuisance sometimes. Do you want me heat this up or not?" Without waiting for an answer, she shoved the pot into the microwave and set it on high. The door of the microwave clanged shut as she turned to face her visitor, "It's a bit dark in here. Can you switch one of the lights on?"

The man flicked at the switches with no success. "I can't get it to work. Is there something wrong with the 'lectricy?"

Iris laughed, "It's El-ec-tri-city, dear, not "'lectricy"! It's a muggle thing." She stopped and frowned, as if realising something. "We must have blown a fuse - the microwave and the fridge are going so it can't be a power cut... I'll have to go outside and check the fuse box."

"I'll come with you," the man said.

"No," Morgiana's mother replied, firmly. "You stink. Go upstairs and take a shower while I sort this out. The hot water should still be running."

On impulse, the man kissed her again, coming so close to Morgiana that she thought she could touch him. She could certainly smell him. 'Is this my Mum's new boyfriend?' she thought. 'Gosh he stinks. I wonder what he does for a living. Maybe he's a trashman.' Her mother was right - he did smell bad, but it wasn't just sewage that he stunk of. She could smell smoke, body odour mixed with cheap aftershave and something else. Something that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

The man pulled away for a moment, and the half-light caught his hand. There was something wrong with it. It moved mechanically, slower than the rest of his body. He had covered it with a dark glove, but through a hole in the palm something glimmered through. "I love you," he said, slowly.

"I love you too," Iris replied, thumbing his hand.

The man's voice cracked, "And you don't love him?"

Morgiana's mother looked him in the eyes. "No, I never loved him," she whispered. "You know that."

"Then why did you do it?" the man whimpered.

"It seemed like fun at the time," Morgiana's mother said. The man put his arms around her until Morgiana could no longer tell where the man's body stopped and his mother's began. Suddenly her mother heaved as though a bolt of energy had passed through her. The man released his grip and Iris stumbled back against the fridge. A ball of green light illuminated her face, the hollows and wrinkles, her huge blue eyes. There was a huge explosion, dust and heat and the smell of burning human flesh overloaded Morgiana's senses. She could no longer see her mother, just a gigantic hole in the wall and a pair of scaly-skinned legs (if that's what they were) lying in the ruins of her house.

The man stepped back and whispered, "Liar. Rest in pieces."

Morgiana screamed.

Morgiana was thrashing about in the sheets of her bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She couldn't get the smell, the sound or the look on her mother's face out of her mind. She screamed again, pummelling the pillow that she thought was the man. The anger was fading now. She was slowing down. The man was gone, vanished in to thin air. Grief swept over her like stormy rain. Where was her mother? What had happened to her?

Hermione tried to shake her awake, but the girl gnashed her teeth together, tossing about like a sinking ship. "Morgiana!" she cried. "Wake up! It's all right! Morgiana!" she looked over at the girl standing, staring at her as if she were mad, "Lavender, go and get Professor McGonagall!"

Lavender swore something under her breath and put on her slippers. She begrudgingly trod across the room, slamming the door behind her. Despite Morgiana's screams, Hermione could hear Lavender stomping her way down the stairs. She looked around at the other girls, "Can somebody help me wake her up, please? I can't do it by myself."

Parvati Patil wrinkled her nose, "Why not just put a full body bind curse on her? That should hold her until McGonagall gets here."

Hermione shook her head.

Parvati picked up a vase from beside her bed and dumped it, flowers and all, over the pair on the bed. Hermione hissed as she was soaked through. Morgiana stopped struggling and open her eyes to find a very wet Hermione and several other girls staring at her. "My mother has been murdered," was all she said.

**

Professor McGonagall had never seen anyone that white before, unless it included a corpse. She held the damp, shivering girl against her, humming slowly under her breath. "My mother has been murdered," the agonised voice repeated in her head. She'd assured the girl that this was not the case, but had been talked into sending Iris an owl first thing in the morning. "It is not like Morgiana to fly off the handle," she thought. "Actually it is," she corrected herself, "but not like this. I've never seen her in this state before, or anyone else for that matter." She wrapped a blanket around the sleeping girl and set about writing the letter. "Good thing I gave her that sleeping draught," she thought, "I don't think that she or anyone else could get some sleep if I didn't."

**

Morning dawned and the girl was still asleep. 'I should have taken her to the hospital wing when I had the chance,' Minerva reflected. She could hardly take her now, everybody would see. 'Mind you,' she thought, 'If news in this school travels as fast as I remember, everybody will know.' She couldn't leave the girl there. There was nothing that could be done about it. She'd have to wake the girl up.

"Morgiana," she asked, shaking the girl gently. Morgiana stared at her through bleary eyes, her head lolling to one side, her dark hair spread out around her. 'Perhaps I gave her too much sleeping draught,' the Professor thought, 'I should have woken Poppy up and taken her to the Hospital Wing there and then.' The girl's eyes closed once more and Minerva shook her again, this time more violently. "Morgiana wake up! It's time for school!"

The girl half-snored the answer, "Then my mother's alright..."

"Yes!" Minerva replied. "Only, please wake up." She had almost certainly overdosed the girl. Even now she seemed to be slipping back into sleep. "Wake up!" she said again. She pinched the girl as hard as she could on the flesh of her forearm.

Morgiana twitched with pain and opened her eyes. "What's going on?" she asked. "Is Mum alright?"

"Your mother is fine," McGonagall said. "I promise you." she watched as the pinch-mark on Morgiana's arm slowly turned red then white again. She thought that wasn't a good sign but she couldn't really be sure. She'd have to get Poppy. "Morgiana," she nearly shouted as the girl drifted back to sleep. It was no use. "Wait here," she said, knowing that the girl wouldn't go anywhere. She was in no fit state. "I'm going to go and get Madam Pomfrey."

The only reply she received was a gurgled snore.

**

'If I'm lucky," Professor McGonagall thought, 'I'll catch her while she's still at breakfast.' She hastened, nearly running, down to the dining hall. She didn't realise, until she got there and everybody stared. t