Storm Clouds

Sleepless Nights

**~**~**~**~**~**

The silence that followed Morgan's announcement was resounding. Dumbledore and Lupin continued to stare at the floor, neither willing to meet anyone's eyes. Professor McGonagall sat, shock making her mouth gape open.

"You. . . You. . . You and James Potter. . . Brother and sister?" she asked, her voice shaking. "How. . . What. . . Why does no one know about this?"

"Safety, Professor. Voldemort was already gaining followers at the time of James's birth. By the time I came along five years later he was more powerful then any dark wizard since Grindelwald." Morgan sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. Harry almost laughed to see it stand on end exactly like his. "My family knew that a daughter born of the Griffith blood would potentially be a danger to Voldemort, so to protect me I was kept hidden. I myself had no clue who I really was until I started at Hogwarts."

"When you met James," McGonagall said.

"Yes, when I met James. It wasn't hard to see the resemblance, which meant we both started asking questions. Our parents were dead by then, but both sets of grandparents knew the truth. We bullied the information out of them." She grinned. "Quite effectively, I might add."

"But why have you stayed away all this time?" McGonagall asked.

My thoughts exactly, Harry said to himself.

Morgan sobered; her grin faded and her eyes became haunted. She glanced at Dumbledore and he immediately took up the story.

"With James dead there was some concern that Voldemort would use his blood to find Morgan and eliminate her as well. He already suspected that she existed, but had no proof. We had to protect against that at all costs."

"So you already knew that she was the next Guardian of the Phoenix?" Snape asked. When Dumbledore nodded he continued. "But how could the Dark Lord have found her if her identity was so well hidden?"

"The ancient ritual to call a lost witch."

It had been so long since Lupin had spoken that Harry had almost forgotten he was in the room. Apparently so had the others. Only Morgan seemed aware of his continuing presence. She smiled when he spoke.

"Calling a lost witch?" Snape's laughter was derisive. "That's witchcraft, not real magic."

"I beg to differ, Severus," was Lupin's response. "With the blood of a close relative it works surprisingly well. With James' blood Voldemort could have easily found Morgan. And killed her as well."

"What is calling a lost witch?" Harry asked, unable to swallow his curiosity any longer. It sounded like a very old type of magic, and one that he had yet to hear of.

"Its an ancient ritual, used for centuries to find young witches and wizards," Morgan replied. "In fact, it was used by the founders to find the very first group of students to ever come to Hogwarts. Recently the power of the spell has waned, as Professor Snape mentioned. But using the blood of a close relative improves your chances of finding someone. Some of the ingredients for the potion may be a bit tricky, but the incantation is simple." Her voice took on a chanting tone when she continued.

"Powers of the witches rise

Course unseen across the skies

Come to us who call you near

Come to us and settle here"

Morgan shrugged when she was finished. "A simple variation of an ancient summoning spell, but it can have unanticipated consequences." She smiled, looking a bit rueful. "In my case those consequences could have been disastrous."

"So how did you prevent Voldemort from finding you?" Harry asked.

"I didn't. Dumbledore did."

Harry glanced at the headmaster and saw his beard twitch, as if he was trying not to smile. He felt his own lips curve slightly in response. It was comforting to know that Dumbledore could still trip Voldemort up.

"I was only 21 years old and had yet to fully understand my position as the next Guardian," Morgan continued. "I also made the mistake of believing, like so many others did, the Voldemort was gone for good. I learned better the day I got this." She tapped the scar on her right temple.

Lupin spoke up then. "I don't think Harry needs to hear that part of the story. Not yet, at any rate."

"I'm sorry, Remus, but I disagree," Morgan replied. "Harry needs to hear it all and the sooner the better. I think he's got the nerve to handle it." She glanced at Harry. "I got this scar the day Sirius Black went to Azkaban. I knew that he didn't kill any of those people, because I saw it happen." Her blue eyes locked on Harry's green ones. "My scar is like yours, Harry. A relic of a curse. Sirius saw what Pettigrew intended and pushed me behind him just in time. I got caught by some of the backwash, however. Hence. . ." Her fingers traced the scar again.

Harry was too shocked to speak for a moment. "You were there? You knew the truth?" When Morgan nodded his anger erupted. "Why didn't you say anything?! Sirius spent almost twelve years in Azkaban because of that! You could have prevented all of it if you had spoken up!"

"Harry. . . ." Lupin began.

"NO!" Harry shouted, rising to his feet. "She knew the truth! How could she just keep silent?"

"Because I couldn't speak. The scar isn't all I got. I was in a magical coma for almost over four months afterwards."

Morgan's response took the wind out of Harry's sails in a hurry. "A coma?"

She nodded. "By the time I woke up it was too late. Sirius had been locked away and it was practically treason to mention his name. Besides. . . ."

"Protecting Morgan was the primary objective." Dumbledore's quiet voice echoed in the room. "I have always regretted what happened to Sirius, but the chance of Morgan being publicly revealed was too great. I put a charm on her to block the call to a lost witch and sent her to Canada under the protection of their Ministry of Magic. She was not to return to Britain until someone broke the charm."

"How was the charm to be broken?" McGonagall asked.

"By using the blood of my last living relative to summon me," Morgan replied.

As one all eyes in the room turned to Harry. He grew nervous under the concentrated stares. "It wasn't me!" he eventually blurted out. "I'd never even heard of summoning a lost witch until today!"

"Harry, have you ever wondered why your aunt and uncle agreed to take you in?" Morgan asked. "It was because Dumbledore gave them a way out. He planted in your aunt's mind the knowledge of how to summon me if the situation ever became desperate enough. Obviously Voldemort's return makes the situation desperate."

"But. . . but. . ." Harry spluttered for a moment. "Aunt Petunia did magic?"

Morgan grinned. "She doesn't exactly know that she did it. The incantation and the potion ingredients were planted sub-consciously. Voldemort's return to a body and powers triggered her reaction."

"But how? She never asked me for a sample of my blood all summer."

"No, she didn't ask. But she got it just the same." At Harry's confused look Morgan continued. "Do you remember cutting you palm on a particularly sharp kitchen knife? And Petunia gave you a dishcloth to stop the bleeding?"

Comprehension dawned in Harry's face. He remembered the incident; it was the day before he left for The Burrow, two days before his birthday. She had sniffed disapprovingly before stuffing the cloth in his hand, ordering him to return it so she could try and get the blood out of it.

Morgan nodded. "She used that as the final potion ingredient, and here I am, despite the risk." She shrugged. "All things happen for a reason."

Harry sank back into his chair, deep in thought. It was a lot to absorb; Morgan's life in danger, her knowing the truth about Sirius, Aunt Petunia doing magic. . . He felt like his head was going to explode when one more thought managed to squeeze in.

"What thing do you believe I inherited with the Griffith blood?" he asked, bringing the conversation back to its purpose.

Morgan took a deep breath. "I believe you may be a candidate to join your power with that of the Order. It's a special ability that not everyone possesses, usually passed through blood. In my case, as in yours, the blood of Godric Gryffindor."

Harry's eyes jumped to the case that held a sparkling silver sword; a sword he had pulled from the Sorting Hat in his second year. "Then I really am related to Gryffindor?" he asked.

"Yes, we are. Direct descendents. The family name was changed in the fifteenth century to Griffith, but blood will tell. Which is part of why Voldemort targeted you when you were a baby. The last thing in the world he wants is to have the blood of all four Hogwarts founders joined with the Order of the Phoenix again. You are the last piece of that puzzle."

"Not you?" McGonagall asked. "I would have thought. . . ."

Morgan shook her head. "No, Minerva. The powers that characterize the Guardian are different. The Guardian is never a member of the Order. My Griffith blood cannot be used."

"I think that's quite enough for one evening," Dumbledore spoke. "Harry needs to return to his dormitory and get some sleep. I'm sure he needs some time to process all of this." Dumbledore gave Harry a look, his blue eyes twinkling. "Luckily tomorrow is Saturday."

Harry glanced down at his watch and was shocked to see it was almost midnight. He stood up, murmured a farewell, and made his way to the door.

**~**~**~**~**~**

Harry got up late the next morning, so late that he missed breakfast. He avoided all the curious stares in the common room when he left his dormitory, books in hand, and headed to the library to work on some assignments. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, not even his best friends. Not until he had some more time to think about everything.

He settled himself at a table in a secluded corner of the library and spread his work out. Ironically the first assignment he picked up was for History of Magic (sixteen inches of parchment on examples of magic in the works of William Shakespeare). He pushed the book away from him quickly, not wanting to face anything that reminded him of Morgan. He removed his glasses and pressed his face into his hands.

"Is it really that bad? Looks like simple homework to me."

Harry looked up and met Ginny's eyes. She was smiling, but with a look of concern.

"I waited up for you last night until I couldn't keep my eyes open. What happened?"

Harry closed his transfiguration book. "Do you really want to know?"

Ginny nodded. "It sure looked serious when the four of us left. I'm not going to deny that I'm dieing of curiosity, but I'm also concerned about you." Without thinking she reached out and touched his cheek. "The circles under your eyes are darker then the Forbidden Forest."

"Yeah, well, it was a long evening." And a longer night, he thought to himself. A night spent staring at the dark ceiling trying to make sense of all the disjointed thoughts in his head. Not exactly comfortable, or restful. And to top it all off I'm starving.

"Harry?"

Harry started and looked at Ginny. He smiled slightly; she was a little out of focus without his glasses. He put them back on and glanced at his watch.

"Its almost time for lunch," he said, packing up his books as he spoke. "What do you say to a leisurely meal in the Great Hall, followed by a stroll around the lake while I tell you everything?"

"That sounds wonderful, except for the stroll part. It obviously escaped your notice, but its snowing like crazy out there."

"It is?" Harry turned to look out the nearest window. Now that he was actually paying attention the snowfall was quite obvious. He grinned. "OK, cancel the stroll. But I still want to tell you everything," he said, his voice growing more serious. "You're already involved so you may as well hear the whole story."

Ginny looked worried, biting her lower lip before she spoke. "Is it that bad?"

"Maybe. I don't honestly know." Harry met her eyes directly. "But I need a friend in the midst of this, and right now you're the ideal candidate." His eyes went back to the window, to the peaceful sight of falling snow. "I don't want to involve anyone else in this unless its unavoidable," he explained. "So for now let's keep it just you and me. After all, you could be the next Guardian of the Phoenix."

Ginny folded her arms on the table and with a dramatic moan lowered her head onto them. "Don't remind me."

**~**~**~**~**~**

Lunch passed entirely too slowly. Every student in Gryffindor knew about the previous evening's meeting, and both Harry and Ginny were on the receiving end of questioning looks. Normally Ron and Hermione would have been full of questions and worry, but they were absorbed in their own conversation, sitting apart from everyone else. Ginny nudged Harry in the ribs and drew his attention to the pair.

"They look cozy, don't they?" she asked.

Harry had to smile. They did indeed look cozy with each other, seated side-by-side with their heads close together. He was about to comment on it when Fred and George sat down across the table. George nodded in greeting before turning his attention to Ron and Hermione.

"What is up with those two?" he asked. "Every time I see them lately they've got their heads together over something."

"And where did they disappear to last night?" Fred added. "We were just recovering from Ginny's tickling charm - Well done, by the way, little sis - when Ron up and left the common room. Hermione followed less then ten minutes later." He raised one eyebrow and gave his best rakish glance. "Think they were off for an evening snog?"

Harry and Ginny laughed out loud, remembering their conversation just a few days before on the same subject.

"The Astronomy Tower, do you think?" Harry asked.

"I'd bet the Owlery," Ginny said, giggling the entire time.

Fred and George looked back and forth between them. "What are you two on about?" George asked.

Ginny shook her head. "You two can be really oblivious at times, do you know that? Haven't you noticed Ron and Hermione's 'disappearing act' before this? It started the night after the attack in Hogsmeade."

"So you think that they're together?" Fred asked.

"It seems likely, doesn't it?" was Harry's response. He bent toward the twins and lowered his voice. "I think we all know that Ron's been crushing on Hermione for years. Its just that none of us thought he'd figure it out."

Giggles, snorts and guffaws broke out and were quickly stifled before the two fifth year Gryffindor prefects could hear. Fred glanced toward them with a mischievous grin.

"Well, how about we 'out' the two lovebirds once and for all?" he asked. Without waiting for a reply he flicked his wand toward the pair. Instantly Ron and Hermione were transformed into a pair of lovebirds. The two birds looked up with shocked expressions, then burst into a storm of twittering

As soon as they started to "speak" the rest of the spell went into action. With each note that emerged from a beak little red hearts floated into the air, popping like soap bubbles after a few moments of floating. There was a moment of stunned silence, then the Great Hall burst into laughter.

'Ron' sat in silence for a moment before blushing furiously and taking to the air out of the Great Hall. 'Hermione' followed him, moving at a more dignified pace. She managed to swoop down and peck Fred hard with her beak before departing.

**~**~**~**~**~**

"She's your WHAT?!?!?!"

Harry started and glanced around guiltily. "For pity's sake Gin. Keep your voice down!."

They were sitting in the empty History of Magic classroom. Its out of the way location made it ideal for a quiet conversation, but it also raised the specter of Filch. They had left the door open to give the loathsome caretaker less reason to believe they were up to no good, but Harry didn't want to draw additional attention to himself and Ginny. Especially given the nature of their conversation.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, lowering her voice. "But you have to admit it's a shock, Harry. Your aunt?"

"Tell me about it," Harry replied.

"And she thinks that you have the power to become a member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry nodded, then proceeded to tell Ginny the substance of the previous evening's entire conversation. She listened in silence, her only reaction her widening eyes. When he finished she let out a deep breath.

"So you really are the Heir of Gryffindor?"

Harry pushed a hand through his hair. "Maybe. Who knows? I'm certainly not the only one, not as long as Morgan is alive."

"Yes, but she can't join her power to the Order's. You are the only living descendent of Godric Gryffindor who can do that." Ginny grinned. "No wonder Voldemort wants you dead so passionately."

Harry glared at her. "You're not helping. Besides, I'm sure he wants Morgan dead as well. Especially since she gave herself away that day in Hogsmeade."

"She didn't have a choice, Harry. Something had to be done."

"I know." He sighed in exasperation. "It just makes everything that much more complicated. Why can't I just have a simple school year; win the Quidditch Cup, study for O.W.L.s, enjoy a feast or two. . . ."

Ginny giggled. "I didn't think you could have a normal year at school. Wouldn't that be abnormal for you?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Harry gave his head a shake, pushing away the self-pitying thoughts. He glanced out the window, noticing that the snow had stopped and a pale blue sky was visible. He stood up and held out a hand to Ginny.

"Come on, let's not waste a perfectly good day. The snow has stopped but I bet there's enough on the ground for at least one good snowball fight."

Ginny took his hand and let Harry help her to her feet. She smiled with a glint in her eye. "A snowball fight, huh? You're on, Potter."