Storm Clouds

Holiday Cheer

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

The following morning Harry awoke with a dry mouth and a throbbing headache. He lay still for a few minutes, focused on the pain in his head. It came as a relief that his scar wasn't burning on top of everything, so at least he knew the headache wasn't because of Voldemort.

It was a relief for only a short time, however. As soon as he had determined to his satisfaction that what he had was, in fact, a normal headache the memory of the previous evening came rushing back. He felt dread settle in his heart like a load of bricks. They were going to tell Hermione, Ron, Fred and George the truth today.

"There's little point in keeping it a secret," he had commented as he and Morgan had walked back to Gryffindor Tower. "Ron and the twins are going to notice that their sister is lying in the hospital wing in a semi-catatonic state, especially since we're supposed to leave for the Burrow in two days."

Morgan had agreed, albeit reluctantly. "The more people that know about this the greater the chances of exposure. It's a huge risk to take, especially since we don't know who the next Guardian is, never mind that she doesn't have her full powers." She had sighed then, her eyes dark with concern. "I'll tell them with you, so at least they'll have all the information they need."

"Profess. . . I mean, Morgan. What happened in that room?" Harry had asked, unable to keep the question inside any longer. Concern for Ginny's well-being had kept him silent for a while, but now that they knew she'd be all right he was bursting with the need to know. "Is Ginny your successor?"

"It looks that way, doesn't it?" Morgan had replied. "Still, its not conclusive. I need to give her one more test. . . ."

That conversation had taken place last night, and Harry had not pressed to know what the final test of Ginny's powers would be. Truth be told he was a little afraid to know. The whole vision quest thing had been rather frightening, at least as far as how it had ended.

Now the next morning had arrived, although to judge by the light it was still early. He could hear Neville's soft snores from the other side of the room, as well as the rustle of bedclothes all around him. His dorm-mates were still asleep. Harry climbed from his bread and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. It was icy cold from standing so close to the window, and it was a bit of a shock as it went down. He shivered in reaction before gathering his clothes together and heading for the bathroom. If he was going to face Ginny's brothers and Hermione he was going to do it fully armed.

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

It wasn't until after breakfast that the storm officially broke. As predicted Fred, George and Ron noticed their sister's absence and were shocked to learn of her presence in the hospital wing. They were loudly demanding explanations when Morgan approached the Gryffindor table.

"Not now," she hissed at the three of them. "Go and see for yourselves that she's fine. I'll meet you there in twenty minutes." At Hermione's pleading look Morgan nodded. "You too, Hermione.

The four of them all but stampeded from the Great Hall. Harry followed at a more measured pace, dread slowing his steps. Not dread for Ginny; he already knew that she would be fine. No, he was dreading the combined Weasley reaction to recent events, especially since Morgan had owled Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the previous evening.

In the hospital wing Ginny lay as she had been since the previous night; stiff, eyes wide and staring. There was a half empty glass of some restorative potion sitting on the bedside table, so presumably she was able to function to that degree. She looked pale; her skin perfectly blended with the starched white of the hospital sheets. Under the circumstances her vibrant hair was a somewhat jarring touch of colour.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the lack of elder Weasleys. That would have proven to be too much. As it was Ron and the twins were peppering Madame Pomfrey with questions. Beyond repeated assurances of Ginny's health and fitness she had no information. Frustration finally got the better of Ron and he erupted.

"BUT HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?!?!"

As one all eyes shifted to Harry. He met each pair in turn, from the look of deep concern on Hermione's face to the accusation written clearly on Ron's. "Not now," was all he could say.

"When?" Fred and George shouted together.

"When I'm ready and not one moment sooner." Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the voice and turned to face Morgan. She continued. "I expect your parents to arrive soon, and I'd rather tell this only once."

"Morgan's right." The faint voice was totally unexpected. No one had noticed Ginny's return to consciousness, but now everyone clustered around with exclamations of surprise and relief. Ginny's dark brown eyes, however, were full of anxiety as she desperately sought Morgan's. "Its me, isn't it?" she asked.

"What did you see?" Morgan asked, her voice soft. Ginny could only shake her head no, refusing to speak. When her eyes drifted closed Harry saw a single tear slip down her cheek. With gentle fingers Morgan wiped it away, and Harry was fairly sure that she cast a wandless calming charm, for Ginny soon fell into a natural sleep.

Well," Fred's words broke the silence. "Are you ready to tell us what this is all about yet?"

Morgan glanced toward the entrance and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with Madame Pomfrey. The concern on their faces was quickly erased and with a hurried word for the matron they made their way to Ginny's bed.

Harry met Morgan's eyes and shrugged. "Now seems as good a time as any."

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

It was almost half an hour later before Morgan stopped speaking. Her voice had grown hoarse, but she had continued on, determined to get the entire story out in as short a time as possible. Every Weasley present had stayed silent during the recital, whether from shock or the inability to think of anything to say Harry couldn't tell. Unsurprisingly, it was Hermione who spoke first, breaking the awkward silence.

"So it was you that destroyed those Dementors in Hogsmeade," she said, eyes fixed on Morgan's face. "You became that phoenix."

"Unfortunately, yes." She grinned ruefully. "I really hate when that happens. The normal colour of my hair doesn't come back for almost three days."

"How can you make jokes about this?" George exclaimed. "This is our little sister you're talking about! About her becoming like. . . like. . ." He couldn't finish the sentence; he just shook his head before collapsing into one of the chairs beside Ginny's bed.

"Like Professor Griffith?" Mrs. Weasley finally spoke. "I think my only daughter could do worse." Her face took on an uncertain expression. "But this? I mean, the Guardian of. . ."

"The Order of the Phoenix," Mr. Weasley mused. He was briefly lost in thought before shaking himself free. "I've heard of it, of course. Mostly as bedtime stories when I was a boy. But I never believed it was real."

Morgan nodded. "I'm not surprised that you've heard stories, Arthur. Your family has a long history as members; the last one being your great-grandfather."

Mr. Weasley started. "Really?" He shook his head in bemusement. "I never knew. I always thought it was just a myth; a fable. I never dreamed it could be the truth."

"You and many others, Arthur," Morgan responded. "Yours is not the only family with a long history in the Order that stopped allowing its sons and daughters to join their power to it. Many families stopped out of fear, especially when Grindelwald grew so strong. People feared the final triumph of the Dark Arts, so they stopped fighting for the light simply to survive. The Malfoys are, ironically, another example."

That certainly caught Harry's attention. "The Malfoys?" he asked, unable to keep the tone of loathing from his voice.

Morgan smiled. "Hard to believe, I know. However, despite the generations' long obsession with 'pure blood' the Malfoys had always been on the side of good. It was Lucius Malfoy's father that started them on their current path, when he refused point-blank to join the Order. He chose Grindelwald instead, just as his son has chosen Voldemort."

There was a collective flinch when Morgan pronounced the name, but otherwise no comment. It seemed that everyone was still too surprised at what she had just revealed about the Malfoy family. For his part Harry was not too stunned that such a choice had been made by Draco's grandfather. No doubt ensuring that their special pure blood would survive for future generations was a motivating factor. And he personally didn't care that they had been on the side of good for centuries; present actions count more then past glories.

Then maybe you should give Pansy Parkinson a bit more credit for helping you with the watch, a nagging voice in his head commented. That is, if you mean what you say about present actions.

"How is it you know about stuff like Dad's great-grandfather being in the Order?" Fred's question pulled Harry from his internal argument. "I mean, you weren't exactly alive then, were you?"

Morgan grinned. "No, I wasn't alive then. Not even the power of the Guardian can extend a life. But I do carry all the memories of my predecessors, as well as the ability to. . . How can I put it? I have the ability to 'sense' powers that are shared within families and feel them inside the Order. Its how I knew that Ginny and the other three girls were the best candidates."

"Other three girls?" Hermione asked. "So it may not be Ginny?"

Morgan shook her head. "I'm afraid that after last night it is only too likely that Ginny is indeed the next Guardian. Especially when added in to all the other factors I already explained."

"But who are the other three?" Ron blurted out.

"Mandy Brocklehurst - Ravenclaw, Eleanor Branstone - Hufflepuff, and Pansy Parkinson - Slytherin." It was the first time Harry had spoken in quite some time and everyone but Morgan started. When he had everyone's attention he looked directly at Morgan. "You've managed to avoid the biggest secret in the whole story so far. When does that come out?"

Morgan was silent for a moment while the others looked at Harry in confusion. When she finally spoke it made nothing clearer. "That's your decision to make, Harry. Its your secret now."

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

"HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!!!"

Harry started awake, jack-knifed into a sitting position. He glanced wildly about, trying to identify the source of the shout. The only sight he could see was Ron, in his own bed, staring about just as wildly. He looked at his best friend, and with a shrug made to lay back down.

CRACK!!!

Both Ron and Harry gasped aloud as Fred and George suddenly appeared in the room, dressed in their traditional Weasley sweaters and wearing identical grins of pure mischief. They were obviously the source of the earlier shout, because without another word the each pulled apart a Christmas cracker and promptly disapparated.

Harry and Ron just as promptly hit the deck, diving under their blankets.

Just in time. There was about a second after Fred and George disappeared when the coast was clear before the fireworks started. The fizzed and sparked, bouncing off the walls, the floor and the ceiling for almost five minutes before finally dying down. When the last one had fizzled to a halt and faded in the air Harry stuck one hand out from under his blanket to grab his glasses.

"Do you think its safe yet?" Ron asked, his voice curiously muffled.

"Only one way to find out," was Harry's response, and he cautiously lowered the bedclothes until he could take a look at the room. He was on the verge of sitting up yet again when a resounding explosion shook The Burrow. Feminine cries of outrage came from the floor below.

Ron emerged from his cover." Ginny and Hermione," he said, grinning. "Should we go and rescue them?"

Harry shook his head no. "Chances are Ginny will make them regret this all on her own; if not now them definitely when we get back to Hogwarts. Besides," he continued with a grin. "We've got presents to open."

Ron made a dive for the foot of his bed where a small pile of presents lay. "There'll be more downstairs," he said as he tore the paper off one bright package to reveal a box of Chocolate Frogs. "Mum always likes to make a big deal out of things when we're all home for Christmas."

Harry was unwrapping his gift from Hagrid (a dragon's tooth necklace and rock cakes) when a knock sounded on the door. It was quickly followed by Hermione and Ginny making their entrance. They had soot on their faces and Hermione's hair looked slightly singed on the ends. She was also angry as all hell.

"I am going to get those two if it is the absolute last thing I do!" she growled before tossing presents to Ron and Harry. "Happy Christmas," was her final word before leaving the room.

"I, um. . . . I'd better go after her or she's liable to use Muggle means to end Fred and George," Ron said, quickly donning his dressing gown and departing after Hermione.

Harry found himself alone with Ginny for the first time since she had woken from her semi-coma. She looked pale and tired; he knew she wasn't eating well because every evening after she retired to her room Mrs. Weasley fretted about it. But no one in her family seemed willing to talk to her about recent events.

Harry was not so reluctant; in fact he had been waiting for just such an opportunity. And judging by the look on her face so had Ginny. "We need to talk," she said without preamble.

"Yes, we do. Do you want to start or shall I?" was Harry's response.

"Harry, I want you to teach me the Patronus Charm."

"Wha. . . ?

Ginny rolled along as if Harry had not spoken, or even attempted to speak. "It's one of the hardest pieces of magic there is, right? Well, if I can learn that without any effort then its pretty much a dead cert that I'm the next Guardian of the Phoenix, wouldn't you say?"

"Did Morgan put you up to this? If she wants this to be your final test why the hell can't she teach you herself?" Harry stood and started pacing the room. "Why am I getting sucked into all of this? Like I don't have enough to cope with as the 'Famous Harry Potter'. . ." His voiced faded as he reached the window. He looked out at the snow-covered ground. "It looks like Hogsmeade did the day all of this started," he mused, turning back to face Ginny. "So, is this Morgan's idea?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, its all mine. I want to know, Harry, and I want to know sooner rather than later. If it's the truth then I'm going to become a target."

"If it's the truth then you'll be well able to defend yourself from what Morgan's told me." Harry grinned, remembering the professor's story about her first year potions tutorings with Snape. He suddenly sobered though, as the intensly worried expression on Ginny's face became clear. "Ginny, what did you dream during that vision quest?"

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She came closer, joining Harry at the window. "I guess I knew that question would come." She met Harry's eyes. "The absolute truth is I don't really remember. Mostly it was a lot of disjointed and unconnected images. Or at least I thought they were unconnected. Two things that kept re-appearing were a lion and a phoenix." She shrugged. "What it all means I haven't a clue."

Harry was dumbfounded. "Ginny, what do you remember about that evening?"

"Nothing after taking Morgan's potion, why?" Ginny asked, puzzled. "The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital wing with the headache to end all headaches."

Harry shrewdly looked at her. "Do you remember waking up the morning immediately after? When your parents were there?"

Ginny glanced sidelong at him. "No. Did I then?" She shrugged. "I just remember waking up the other day because Fred and George were making a racket out of packing my things so we could come home for Christmas."

"You woke up briefly, the morning after, when we were in the hospital wing with you."

"I did?" Ginny's brow wrinkled as she struggled with the information. "I don't remember that at all."

Harry nodded. "Well, I do. Kind of hard to forget; you looked right at Morgan and simply said 'Its me, isn't it?', in this sad, stricken sort of voice. I thought for sure you had seen something in your visions. Well, that and. . . ." His words ground to a halt.

"That and. . .?" Ginny prompted. "Harry, what else happened that evening? I was so out of it as a result of that potion that Death Eaters could have attacked and I'd have missed the whole thing!"

Harry may have hesitated, but the sight of Ginny's hand curling into a fist brought him around sharp. "I don't know, exactly. Except for one thing; just before you fell into your stupor, coma, whatever, you made a sound very like the call of a phoenix."

Ginny's eyes widened. "I did?" She shook her head. "I honestly don't remember a thing about the entire process. Except, as I said, the disjointed images I kept seeing; lions and phoenixes. And Celtic knots. I remember seeing a lot of them in my dreams."

"Well I'd guess that the images of phoenixes are significant, at least," Harry said. Ginny glared at him from the corner of her eye, then gave a gusty sigh.

"It seems more and more likely that I'm stuck, doesn't it?" She sighed again. "Harry, I really don't want this, but what else can I do? Morgan was right; if I'm meant for the job I don't have a lot of choice." She looked up and Harry was surprised to see her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm stuck, aren't I?" she repeated as the tears spilled over.

Feeling awkward and unsure of what he could do Harry reached out and rested one hand on her shoulder. She reached up and clasped hers tightly around it. They stood there together for uncounted minutes; quiet and comfortable in each others company. It wasn't until shouts drifted from the floors below that Ginny snapped out of her trance.

"We should get downstairs. Mum will be furious." She moved to the door and was on the verge of opening it when she turned back. "Harry, what about the rest of the secret? You being Morgan's nephew, I mean. Do the others know?"

Harry grinned. "I know what you meant." He sighed. "No, no one knows yet. Morgan told me it was my secret to tell, and that's exactly what I'm going to do." He reached out and took Ginny's hand. "Let's brave the crowd below, shall we?"

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

Crowd was certainly the truth. Charlie and Bill had come home for the holidays, and the addition of Hermione's parents made it seem worse. Of course, most of the crowded feeling was probably due to the monstrous tree that occupied the center of the living room. That and the enormous pile of presents around it.

Harry was surprised to see that his annual Christmas jumper was not green this year, but a deep royal blue, and Ron's was green instead of maroon. They looked at each other, puzzled. Mrs. Granger came over to where they sat. "I thought you'd both appreciate a change this year," she whispered with a smile. "I made some gentle suggestions to Molly."

"Thank you," Harry whispered fervently back. "I was getting a little sick of 'I thought it'd match your eyes, dear.'"

"And I've been sick of maroon since my first ever Christmas," was Ron's comment.

Mrs. Granger grinned, patted both Harry and Ron on their shoulders and moved back to sit beside her husband. Hermione and Ginny were in another corner comparing presents and giggling every so often. Despite her concerns and worries it was obvious that Ginny was making an effort to keep her spirits up for the sake of the rest of her family.

Once all the presents were opened Mr. Weasley transfigured the tree back to its normal size and everyone tramped back upstairs to clean up and dress for Christmas dinner. When Harry arrived in the magically-enlarged kitchen for the meal he had to stifle a chuckle. Each and every person seated around the table was wearing a traditional Weasly Christmas jumper, even the Grangers. It was like walking into a rainbow with all of the colours. He slid into a seat in between Ginny and Hermione with a grin for each of them. He hadn't felt this happy and relaxed in months.

When every one had taken a seat Mr. Weasley stood, clearing his throat for attention. "You all may have noticed that we have one extra chair at the table." He glanced at his wife, who was smiling broadly. "We've had to work very hard at keeping this a secret, but now its time to. . . What's the Muggle expression? Put the cat in the bag? Or is it let the cat out of the bag? No matter. The point is that we have arranged a very special surprise for one of our guests." And with a wave of his hand Bill stood and opened the door and brought in the last member of their party.

Harry felt his jaw drop and his tongue go numb. He couldn't have spoken if he wanted to; luckily it wasn't necessary. He rose from his chair, stumbled around the table, and threw himself into his godfather's arms.

Sirius looked thin, but healthy. At a guess Harry would have said he'd been at the Weasley's for a while; long enough for one of Mrs. Weasley's haircuts. He was clean-shaven, and he looked calm and happy. He grinned at Harry's dumbfounded expression.

"I've been here for two days, even if I was sleeping in Arthur's workshop. I saw all of you arrive." He looked Harry up and down. "You've gotten taller."

"It happens to fifteen year old boys, Sirius," Molly said, smiling. "But now its time to eat, so please, sit down."

"Wait!" Harry said, louder then he wanted. "Since this seems to be a time for letting cat's out of the bag I have a rather large one to release. She said it was mine to tell, and if I can't trust all of you with this then who can I trust?" He met Ginny's eyes. When she nodded encouragingly he took a deep breath and continued. "We didn't tell you everything that day in the hospital wing." He pushed a hand through his hair. "There's no easy way to do this, so I'll just blurt it out. Professor Morgan Griffith's full name is Morgan Griffith Potter. She's my father's sister. My aunt."

The ringing silence after that announcement seemed to stretch forever. Everyone was glancing about the room, meeting other pairs of eyes as if looking for confirmation. Only Mr. and Mrs. Granger seemed more confused then shocked. All the blood had drained from Mrs. Weasley's face and her mouth hung open.

But no one seemed as surprised as Sirius. First paling, then flushing, his mouth worked repeatedly, but no sound came forth. After what seemed an interminable minute he was able to speak, but his words were hardly what Harry anticipated.

"M. . . Mor. . . Morgan's alive?" he whispered. And before anyone could answer him he fainted dead away.

Harry glanced at Mrs. Weasley standing at his other side. "M. . . Mor. . . Morgan's your aunt?" she managed to stutter before joining Sirius on the kitchen floor.

In the uproar that followed Harry clearly heard George comment, "Well, Harry, I've got to hand it to you. You really know how to bring the house down."