Black Aeon

Chapter seven

Sleeping With Ghosts

Harry stared at his sister, her words ringing in his ears. She knew? And she hadn't told him? Something big and obviously important was happening to her, and she hadn't told him? That hurt. That hurt a lot.

'Ganie had some serious explaining to do.

~

If Remus had told her when she was still living with him in France that she would be retelling what he had told her only a few years later to some one else, she would have laughed and laughed, gone away for a coffee break, then come back and laughed some more. But here she was, and she had to explain it. And she had no idea where to begin. Just as she opened her mouth to start rambling, Madam Pomfrey bustled in and banished Harry from the hospital wing, as Wylow needed her rest. He shot her a dissatisfied look that clearly said 'We'll talk later.' And she couldn't wait... not. She sighed, and placed her knitting on the bedside table next to her bed. Maybe she did need rest, if she was to find the strength to tell her brother about the biggest secret that their family had. Snuggling under the thick duvet, she closed her eyes, and let herself drift.

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting in the middle of a field. And for once the ground wasn't wet, she noted dryly. But it didn't feel right some how; the grass was too green in her dream vision, the sky too bright a blue. Maybe it was just because her memory of colour was messed up; she didn't really know. A butterfly flew past her head, and she watched the brilliant blue insect meander lazily through the air beside her. But she still knew that there was something wrong with this colouring as well. Too bright, too brilliant a blue for nature. Some thing was wrong with this place; it was too devoid of any life other then the insects and animals. She sighed, and closed her eyes.

"OK, who ever you are who has called me here, show yourself." There was a soft, girly chuckle, and a young woman appeared in front of her. At first glance, she thought that it was her mother standing in front her, then she saw that there was no scar, and that she was wearing clothes from the 1000's. There was no doubting who this was.

"Morgan..." A grin flickered across the redheads face.

"You know who I am."

"Sure do. Mind you, I expected something a little... different." There was a puzzled expression on the young woman's face as she sat down opposite the seventeen year old girl.

"Different? What do you mean?"

"Well, from what Remus told me, you were a lot more forceful and much harsher with my mother." The ancient witch laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, the gold threads in the red catching in the sunlight. She peeped coyly through thick, dark red eyelashes and smiled gently. It didn't impress the scarred girl. "I'm not some man for you to seduce Morgan. Why am I here?" The redhead blinked, and then visibly deflated.

"I was hoping that you would be easier then my Lily was." She looked up, pleading. "Don't fight me as hard as she did; it'll just make it more painful."

"Painful for whom? You, who has to put her self into my mind, or me, who would have to give up part of her soul? You decide." Morgan licked her lips, and sighed. For a moment, there was silence. Then she looked up, and smiled slightly.

"Tell me about yourself." That was not what the black haired witch expected.

"...Tell you about myself?" The redhead nodded, and drew her knees up to her chest, watching her great grand daughter intently. She looked for all the world like an eager teenager at a sleepover, waiting to hear secrets from her best friend. And that was almost what she was; now that the sleeping girl looked closer, she could see that Morgan could only have been nineteen, twenty at the oldest. Surely she couldn't deny the dead woman this? It was only a conversation after all. She pushed most of her conscious mind out to the one person she knew could take it. The one person in the world who was most like her.

~

Down in the Great Hall, Harry's head snapped up; some thing was not right. Even without being linked to his sister mentally, he could still sense her when something happened. And something was happening now. He jumped up, and looked around. For some reason, his earring was burning in his ear lobe. Hermione looked up at him, still a little annoyed at him from the night before when he had hit her on the head with her book.

"Harry, what's wrong with-?"

"'Ganie; something's up with her. She's... sinking." That was the only word for it: sinking. It felt as though she was falling. Hermione rolled her eyes, and pulled him downward back to his seat.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry. She is in the Hospital Wing; she's perfectly fine." Harry was now fed up with the bossy tone in her voice. His eyes flickered over the table, and landed on a bread knife. With a flicker of his hand, it rose off the table and hovered inches over Hermione's wrist.

"I know my own twin; let me go or lose your hand." Hermione stared up at him, and slowly let him go. This temper wasn't Harry's usual. Any one could recognise the cold voice and the slight arch in his left eyebrow. It was pure Wylow. Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"Harry... What's she done to you?" Harry's eyes flickered to Hermione's face. There were thin yellow streaks in his usually pure green eyes. Knowledge dawned in Hermione's eyes. "Partial Transferral Possession..." She stood up, beckoning Ron over. "Let's go." As they began to move, three people blocked their way. One stepped forward, his brown- blond hair glinting in the torch light. His rolled up sleeves revealed one of his arms was tattooed with a Celtic designed cross.

"What's wrong with Wylow?"

~

Morgan laughed, and shook her head.

"Oh you did not!"

"Yes I did!"

"You did not sneak into Godric's House and change all the furniture into Canadian geese!" She smiled at her ancestors' spirit.

"I did. And it was funny. I had to get my brother out first though, before the geese began attacking every one who came down into the Common Room." Morgan laughed again, and smiled softly at her.

"You have the same wicked sense of humour as a man I once knew. He would hide his mothers' cat in the rafters, and then make it jump on the heads of passers by, while singing lude songs." It wasn't exactly funny, but it was probably one of those things you had to be there to find funny. A jolt ran through her, and she looked around, then back at Morgan.

"Some one's calling me." Morgan smiled.

"They can't take you back unless I allow them."

"So... if you chose to keep me here forever, they couldn't stop you?"

"Not unless they sent some one after you, then dragged you back, no."

"Huh. So... who was this man you knew?"

~

Harry stared down at his sister, not moving a muscle as he stared at her silent form. He probed her mind, searching for a way in, to call her back. He didn't think about what, he was doing, he just did it. Madame Pomfrey had told him that 'Ganie's vital signs showed that she was in some sort of comatose state that she couldn't be brought out of. Her eyes moved beneath their lids constantly, showing that she was dreaming. Every so often, her lips would form a word. The word looked like a name. Harry searched through the outer portion of her mind, picking through the little details like a dog picking the last scraps of meat from a bone. Finally, he heard a whisper of a name. "Morgan..." Now he knew what was going on.

He slid out of her mind, and looked around. Hermione looked at him anxiously, not sure if she liked him using this power. Was it his, or was it 'Ganie's power? He didn't know. And at the moment, he didn't care. He spoke quietly, almost as though he was speaking only to himself.

"She's in there. But she isn't alone." The door opened behind him, and the Headmasters voice was heard.

"It seems that things are happening faster with the young lady on the bed then with her mother. She was back at school for over a month before she began on this path with Morgan Le Fey." Dumbledore looked at Harry. "It seems that she also has become more advanced in strength then her mother, with more of a variety of gifts then Lilith as well. But how is it that you have gifts as well? And how do you have such control?" Harry swallowed, and then he felt 'Ganies' strength of will build up inside him.

"I have a few gifts. I think that as I have less, I can get more control a lot faster. But... at the moment, I have 'Ga... Wylow's gifts as well." Hermione butted in, unable to resist showing off her knowledge.

"She used Partial Transferral Possession on him sir; she transferred her gifts and part of her self into him, but I can't yet work out how or why-"

"Granger, shut up this has nothing to do with you." The drawl and the very tiny inflections on some of the vowels were unmistakeable; that sentence had been pure Wylow. But coming out of Harry's mouth, in a male voice, it sounded odd, and out of place. Harry flicked out his hand at her, and Hermione's teeth came together with a loud snap. She visibly struggled to open her jaws, but failed. Harry's eyes closed, fluttering shut. Then they snapped open, and the yellow streaks that had appeared in the Great Hall seemed to glow. His mouth hung slightly open, and he gasped as his mind was swamped with the cold rush of his sisters' mind.

"Don't worry about me." His voice echoed softly, a faint tone of 'Ganie's voice within it. "I'll come back soon." Then she was gone, and there was only darkness. Harry heard Ron calling him as he tumbled down into the dark.

~

She opened her eyes after she left her brothers body, and smiled at Morgan.

"Sorry about that, I had something to settle."

"That's alright. You wanted to know who the man was. The one I knew?"

"Yes." Morgan's eyes glazed over and a small smile lit her face.

"He was the Master of the Manor I grew up in. He was the founder of one of the Houses of your school." That was a surprise. But before she could question any further, she felt something pluck at her mind demandingly, then a bolt when through her chest. As she felt her self pulled back in a haze of pain, Morgan grabbed her arm in desperation.

"Please Morgan; you bear my name, given you by your mother. Become who you are! Become Morgan Le Fey!" Just as she vanished out of the dream world, a single word past her lips.

"Yes..." a smile spread over Morgan's lips, and her hand shot out, sinking into her chest, holding onto the girl so that she couldn't leave. Brilliant green light exploded from the two of them, and Morgan Wylow Le Fey screamed in agony as she felt her soul fusing with raw magic's.

~

Remus knew what was happening before the others did; he had seen Lily turn, and now he watched, unable to stop it, as his little girl exploded with green light, and an animalistic scream tore from her throat. A vase exploded across the room, and a high pitched whistling echoed around the room. A green light flashed from the fallen body of Harry, and joined back to the green that flew out of the girl. His hands flew to cover his ears, and a sob tore from his own throat, just as the noise stopped and the light faded. He looked up, a tear rolling down his cheek, just as Wylow sat up and looked around.

Her breath dragged in her chest, and all she could feel was... fear. She ran her hands through her hair.

"... What have I done?" Her voice was croaked, as though she hadn't spoken in a long time. Then she noticed something; a vein of white running through her hair. She turned sharply, and picked up the hand mirror from her bed side table and brought it up to her face. Down the right hand side of her hair was a streak of pure hair. But that wasn't all. In the under layers of her hair on the left side, was a streak of deep red. The same colour as Morgan's hair, and her mothers. That was definitely weird. She swallowed, and noticed that she was shaking badly. So badly that the mirror rattled in its casing. She looked around, feeling lost, then her eyes rested on one person. "...Remus?" Her surrogate father looked at her, and she then saw the tear track that ran down his face. "Oh Remus, what have I done?" She couldn't cope any more; she burst into frightened sobs, her shoulders quaking. Her blood swished through her veins gently, moving in sync with the beating of her over active heart and the hair on the back of her arms stood on end. She then realised, through her tears that something was different, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was something important, that she knew, but what it was, she couldn't think of. She knew she had just traded in part of her soul and a corner of her now belonged completely to the witch that flowed in her blood. She knew that she was now the second Morgan Le Fey in history, and that she had changed slightly in appearance in her little coma- type- thingy. But it wasn't any of those things that were confusing her. In her state of searching, her tears dried on her cheeks, her shaking stopped, and she became very still. Quickly, Wylow made a check of her mind. It all appeared to still belong to her; she also had back the part of her she had transferred to her twin for safe keeping. Jay would probably be mad at her for that, but she would have to deal with that later. And she would also have to get used to his nickname again. What was it that had changed?! This was beginning to annoy her. She felt a hand touch her shoulder.

"Wylow? Ulvli, are you alright?" It was Remus, acting like her father. As usual.

"Yeah... I think you Mussy..."

"Look at me." Obediently, no really understanding what he meant, she looked up into his face. He scanned her eyes, and a grin began to spread over his face. That's when Wylow finally worked out what was going on with herself. She ran her eyes slowly over her 'father's face, his hair and eyes, and smiled.

"I can see..." From some where behind her, Hunter's voice reached her ears.

"You could see any way Wylow." A bubble of happiness began to inflate in her chest, and a smile spread over her face.

"No... I mean I can see in colour." There was the sound of something hitting the floor, and Wylow turned to see her brother standing up, slowly and rather painfully as it looked. Slowly, he raised his eyes to hers, and Wylow could see the anger burning in them.

"What the hell did you think you were doing Morgan?" This was really bad; he was calling her Morgan.

"What do you mean?"

"What was that you did to me?!"

"...Partial Transferral Possession."

"I nearly cut off Hermione's hand! With a bread knife!"

"Um... Oops?" that was obviously not enough. But thank fully, before Jay could do a famous Harry Potter Human Explosion act, the exhaustion that had been eating at Wylow came over her, and she collapsed on the bed, glowing very faintly green.

*

It was blissfully quiet when she woke up. Slowly, Wylow sat up, and licked her dry lips. She was dying for a drink, but couldn't see properly without her glasses, especially not in the dark. Seemingly, she was completely alone, in the dark, quiet hospital wing. Seemingly. There was a voice from somewhere close by in the room. "You're awake."

"No shit Sherlock. Is there any water anywhere?" There was the sound of glass chinking on glass, and a glass was gently pressed to her mouth. Greedily, she sipped at the cold liquid in the tall glass, until there was nothing left.

"Better?"

"Much. Thanks Hunter." There was a soft chuckle as she heard the sound of glass being set on wood, and felt a pressure put on the bed beside her. "So, how long have I been out?"

"Honestly? About a week." That was not what she expected.

"... A fucking week?!" a hand stroked her cheek gently, and she found she simply wanted to turned her head and nuzzle the palm. Bad girl, no odd doggie- wolf impressions.

"You were possessed by an ancient spirit, who wove part of herself into your magic and genetic make up. Hence the red streak. It's only to be expected that your body made up for that by passing out."

"Right, yes, ok... I missed the first week of school? Oh my giant Christmas Puddings, who was Acting Head Girl?!"

"Who do you think? Granger was delighted; I think you may have a bit of bother getting the position back off her. She's already spending rather along time in the Head Pupil's tower, staring at the stairs to your room."

"Bitch. It's my position, Dammit!" Hunter chuckled, and stroked her cheek again. Wylow tensioned up her muscles slightly.

"I know that Wyl'. You're the best Head Girl, honestly." One of his fingers strayed slightly, running down the column of her throat. That was what made Wylow decide she couldn't take the touching any more. Trusting her senses, she reached out, grabbed the front of Hunter's clothing, dragged him down toward her and slammed her lips onto his, kissing him fiercely. He would learn not to tease her.