VI: Foray At Fortescue’s

Chapter VI: Foray At Fortescue's

'Fortescue's?' Charis' voice almost cracked with fright. 'Why are there Death Eaters at Fortescue's?'

'Aren't Death Eaters allowed to have a sweet tooth?' Morgana said drily, realising that her comment wasn't about to be received well even before she had finished talking. Charis most obviously wasn't in the mood for sarky comments. She had retreated onto the bed again where she was now clutching a pillow against her chest. Her green eyes were big as saucers.

Charis was afraid, Morgana could see that clearly. And who could blame her? She had experienced on her own body what gruesome deeds the followers of Lord Voldemort were capable of. She had every right to lose her nerve.

'They must hold a grudge against Fortescue for some reason,' Morgana said in a much softer voice now. 'Sounds like they are taking the place apart.'

There were indeed still sounds coming from the alley, even though the window was closed. The girls could hear explosions and shouting. And every now and then, someone screamed.

'Morgana, please, get away from the window,' Charis begged. She was being silly, she knew that. Morgana's room was on the second floor, far away from whatever was happening at Fortescue's. But still, Charis could not help but imagine a hex ricocheting off a wall down in the alley and hitting Morgana right in the back.

Snape, too, wished that Morgana would get away from the window. He wanted her back on the bed beside her Ravenclaw friend where he could keep an eye on them both. With her lingering by the window, she was out of sight, and Merlin alone could know what she was up to. For as much as Snape knew, she could be hanging out of the window to get a better look.

And indeed, Morgana was leading an inner struggle. The rational part of her brain was telling her to stay put and out of harm's way, but another part urged her out into the street. She wanted to see first-hand what was going on at Fortescue's and not just hear about it at the Auror briefing in the morning. She wanted to be where the action was. Do something. Make a difference.

What was it again the Ministry psychologist had written on her file a few days ago? Prone to throw herself into potentially dangerous situations in order to prove herself? Morgana sneered. Maybe the old codger had been right?

This evening, however, she wouldn't be going out; that was for sure. If she had been alone, maybe. But with Charis around? No, she would stay by her friend's side.

After a last peek through the gap in the curtains, Morgana returned to the bed, putting her wand down carefully beside her and looking at Charis with concern. Charis was shaking, clutching her pillow even more tightly to her chest.

'She... she could be out there right now,' Charis mumbled fearfully.

Morgana frowned. 'Who?' she asked, momentarily at a loss.

'B-Bellatrix Lestrange,' Charis whispered in hushed tones, her eyes darting to the window as if she expected the Dark witch to materialise out of thin air.

Bella is most probably out there firing hexes, Morgana thought privately. She does not seem to like missing out on all the fun. But she could not tell Charis and risk upsetting her further.

'I'm sure the Aurors have arrived by now,' she replied instead. 'And you're up here, far away from everything. It's going to be okay.'

Charis bit her bottom lip, but she could not stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. 'Why Fortescue?' she asked again. 'What could he possibly have done?'

Morgana merely shrugged, having no answers to give and feeling more and more uncomfortable. She had always hated tears, but what she hated even more was seeing her best friend so upset and being unable to comfort her.

'N-nowhere is safe anymore,' Charis sniffed. 'We could have been caught up in that. If we'd stayed another hour we could have been killed!'

'But we weren't,' Morgana replied, her voice a bit more impatient than she had meant it to be. 'We are up here. And they don't know.' Then she stopped, cocking her head. 'Listen, the noise has stopped.'

She was off the bed and making for the window in a second, her wand tightly clutched in her hand once more.

'Don't!' Charis exclaimed urgently. 'Please?' she continued weakly, pleading with her friend with her big green eyes.

Morgana sank back onto the bed. As curious as she was, she understood that Charis was upset. But still, she felt more than a little helpless and had the overwhelming urge to be doing something. Anything. Just sitting there in her safe little room would soon do her head in.

Snape, too, was on edge. When Morgana had jumped off the bed in order to run to the window, he in his turn had jumped off his chair and yelled, very much like Charis had done. But Morgana, of course, had not heard him. Thankfully, however, she had listened to her friend. And now his girls were both sitting in the bed once more, out of harm's way.

Or were they? Charis had been quite right. Bellatrix was indeed down there in Diagon Alley, causing havoc at Fortescue's so no one would notice that some hundred yards down the street, wandmaker Ollivander was being dragged from his home. What if Bellatrix grew bored of blasting apart ice cream tubs and started looking for fun in the neighbouring buildings instead?

'Don't be ridiculous,' Snape told himself. Bellatrix and the others had precise orders to return to the Dark Lord as soon as they had taken hold of Ollivander. And by now, the Aurors had certainly arrived at the scene. Bellatrix was not about to explore the neighbourhood.

'Shall I get us some tea?' Morgana asked eventually, glancing sidewise at her friend. 'Or something stronger, perhaps?'

'Don't... leave me...' Charis whispered. She felt silly for being so afraid, but the last thing she wanted was to be alone right now, even for Morgana to fetch a drink.

'Sweetie,' Morgana soothed, awkwardly patting Charis' arm. She didn't know what to do. The last time she had seen her friend in such a state was when she had woken up in the hospital wing after being attacked by Bella. No wonder she was terrified now; the sounds of the spells and the screams must be taking her right back to that horrible incident. And Morgana felt as helpless now as she had back then. Carefully, she extended her hand and gently patted her friend's blonde hair, hoping the little gesture would lend some comfort.

That was when Charis threw her pillow to one side and launched herself at her friend instead. She needed the physical contact, and she needed not to feel alone.

Morgana tentatively wrapped her arms around Charis, comforting her in the best way that she could. 'It's alright, sweetie,' she whispered, trying to sound rational. 'That the noise has stopped must mean that the Aurors have arrived and that the Death Eaters have gone.'

'I'm s-sorry... it's just B-Bella...' Charis started between sobs. 'I sometimes think... she might want to... come back and f-finish me off.'

Morgana's heart ached for her friend. 'Don't be sorry, kitten; it's alright to be afraid.'

From nowhere, a loud crack echoed around the room, and Charis flinched, burrowing her face into Morgana's chest and instinctively covering her head with her arms. But there was no Death Eater Apparating into the room. It was just a little elf.

'Silvy!' Morgana exclaimed, and Charis cautiously raised her head to see the trembling house elf standing before them.

'M-Mistress is safe! Mistress is safe! Silvy saw flashes and heard the bangs and thought Mistress was in danger!' The little elf twisted her hands in agitation.

Morgana had to resist rolling her eyes at the elf's overreaction. 'Have you seen what's going on, Silvy?' she asked, hoping to finally get some information.

'Dark wizards, Miss Morgana!' the elf piped up, her ears flapping animatedly. 'From nowhere, pop-pop-pop, all over Diagon Alley, in their masks. Silvy saw them drag the ice cream man out from the shop, but then Silvy got scared, and Silvy's only thought was for her mistress.'

'As you can see, I am alright, Silvy,' Morgana told her, trying hard not to sound annoyed. Couldn't the elf have stayed just a couple of more minutes?

Silvy peered disbelievingly at Charis. The blonde witch looked anything but alright. But Morgana nodded in the affirmative. 'Would you mind if I send you on an errand, Silvy?'

Silvy unconsciously looked at the window. 'What would Miss like Silvy to do?'

Morgana could sense that the little elf was afraid she'd send her back outside. From her former master, Silvy could not have expected any better. Lucius Malfoy may indeed have been cruel enough to send the trembling elf out into the street once more, but of course Morgana was not.

'Please, go to the kitchen and see if Madam Nutkins still has that Firewhisky hidden behind the rice.'

The look of relief on Silvy's face was palpable. 'Yes, Miss!' she cried and promptly Disapparated with another crack.

'And here I was hoping the former elf of a Death Eater would have stronger nerves,' Morgana muttered to herself before releasing her hold on her friend. 'Come on, kitten. Sit up straight. Deep breaths.'

Charis sat up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand just as Silvy returned, clutching a dusty-looking bottle.

'Thank you, Silvy. Did you bring a glass?' Morgana asked.

The little elf beamed proudly and produced two glasses from her pockets. But Morgana just took one, poured a healthy measure and handed it to Charis. 'Drink,' she instructed firmly.

Charis gave her friend a watery smile and took a glug of the deep amber liquid. Her first reaction was to wince, but after swallowing, she admitted, 'Actually, this stuff is okay.'

She took another swig as Morgana looked on, amused. 'Any better?'

Charis nodded gratefully. The burning and warming sensation of the Firewhisky did indeed seem to spread some kind of comfort through her, and she felt calmer.

'Now, if you'll excuse me for just a few moments, I'd very much like to look out of that window!' Morgana told her friend, leaving the bed and approaching the curtains. This time, Charis did not object.

Morgana opened the curtain just a tiny bit, just enough to see down to the street below. It all seemed quiet now. Encouraged by this, she pulled the curtain back fully in order to get a good look.

'There's a whole squad of Aurors standing on the street,' she told Charis.

'Is Moody there?' Charis asked. She'd only met the real Mad-Eye Moody once, at Grimmauld Place. But the impression she had of him, from that short encounter combined with what Morgana had told her about the man today, made her trust him fully. Having him down there in the street made her feel much safer.

'Can't see him,' Morgana answered, now standing on tiptoes and craning her neck. 'He might be inside.'

After another uneventful minute, Morgana closed the window, scowling slightly. She didn't know what she had expected, but ten Aurors seemingly aimlessly standing around outside Fortescue's had certainly not been it. Turning back towards her friend, she saw Charis rub her neck.

'You know, I put a lot of hard work into those shoulders of yours,' Morgana pointed out, giving Charis a reproachful look. 'And then you go and tense up again.'

'Can't believe I need another massage already,' Charis smiled in response.

Morgana crossed her arms in front of her chest. 'Ask nicely,' she teased.

'Pretty please with sugar on top?' Charis mock-pouted.

Morgana laughed. That had been the sign she needed to know that Charis would be all right. Relieved, she addressed her elf.

'Silvy, please go to bed. We'll be fine.'

'Yes, Miss,' the elf piped. 'Silvy hopes Miss Morgana and Miss Charis will go to bed soon, too.'

Morgana shrugged. 'If Charis keeps drinking like that, she might just pass out. Would you mind putting the bottle back to where it belongs, Silvy?'

'Yes, Miss.'

Charis grunted in frustration as the elf reached out her tiny hand to take the glass from her.

'No more,' Morgana admonished firmly. However, Silvy, ever the good elf, poured Charis another glass before Disapparating.

Charis giggled. 'I love Silvy.'

'Only because she gives you booze,' Morgana answered curtly. She had turned her back on Charis once more and was looking almost longingly out of the now closed window.

'You want to be out there, don't you?' Charis asked, watching her friend carefully.

With a swift motion, Morgana pulled the curtains shut firmly and whirled around to face her friend. 'No,' she stated, jaws clenched and her eyes slightly narrowed. She was frustrated with herself. She knew very well that she had no business whatsoever down in the alley.

'Liar.' Charis smiled.

Morgana felt a flash of annoyance that her friend was right. She DID want to be out there. She wanted to be involved. But still it grated on her.

'Call me liar once more, and I'll take away your booze,' she replied snippily.

Charis stuck out her chin defiantly. 'Try.' And with that, she downed the whole glass in one.

Morgana shook her head. 'You shouldn't have done that,' she told Charis. 'You have only eaten a Blueberry Bat since lunch. How do you think two glasses of magical whisky will become you?' In truth, she was irritated at herself for goading her friend. If she'd held her tongue, she might have persuaded Charis not to have drunk the second glass at all. She hated it when people became intoxicated. They tended to do things they normally wouldn't.

Charis merely hiccupped in response.

'Oh, dear,' Morgana sighed wearily. Obviously, Charis' empty stomach and the tension had made the alcohol do its magic even faster than she had anticipated.

'Mmm, maybe I need a lie down,' Charis said woozily after another flurry of hiccups.

'You think?' Morgana replied, crossing her arms disapprovingly in front of her chest.

Charis snuggled down on the bed, hiccupping softly to herself. 'I'm all warm,' she slurred happily.

Morgana couldn't help but smile. She may not like drinking, but her friend did look cute. 'Isn't feeling warm a good thing?' she asked.

Charis hummed in retort.

Morgana crossed the room and sat beside Charis on the bed, patting her head gently and still smiling. And Charis smiled back, draping an arm over Morgana before sighing, 'I'm glad you're here to protect me.'

Morgana shook her head. 'Go to sleep, silly.'

'I love you,' Charis murmured, her eyes shut and gently squeezing Morgana's hand.

Morgana, in her turn, frowned. 'Only drunks and children,' she muttered softly. Carefully, she made sure the blanket covered her friend properly as Charis fell asleep holding her hand.

After a few minutes, Charis' breathing became deeper and regular, and Morgana hoped that the Ravenclaw's dreams were as far away from Death Eaters and jinxes as they could possibly be.

Once again, she gingerly patted her friend's blonde hair and then sat quite still, just watching Charis while the smile on her lips broadened and a warm glow spread inside her.

Snape, too, sat watching. He had sat down in his chair again, leaning forwards slightly and idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. He was mesmerised by what he saw in his mirror.

He had always known that the bond between Charis and Morgana was one of the strongest kinds. They had always been closer than best friends; so close that they could have been sisters. Maybe, not even sisters were that close. What would happen if they lost one another? Would they be able to survive each on their own? Or did the bonds of friendship extend into something far deeper, something akin to... love?

Suddenly, Snape's finger froze in mid-movement. He had tried to drive a wedge between those two girls. He had meant to test their friendship – for their own sake, he had told himself – and had consequently driven them apart. But thankfully, their friendship had lived through the trial, and now it seemed as if the girls harboured more than sisterly feelings for each other. Had their intimacy not seemed to border on far more than friendship before the disturbance had interrupted their evening of pampering? Had not Morgana's touch resembled one of a lover? And had not Charis leant in to said touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world?

Snape clenched his fist. He was ashamed to admit it even to himself, but seeing his girls in such a position stirred his arousal no end. And had they not been disturbed, had Morgana continued with her caresses, Merlin knew what would have happened then. Snape couldn't help it; he was attracted to them both.

Thank heavens that they were not at Hogwarts anymore. If he had to see them every day, he would not be able to keep away from them. He had tasted Charis already. She had been so sweet, and the untainted love she held for him had worked like a drug. He had gone back for seconds and thirds, taking more of her and playing with her affections, not out of wickedness but because he had been weak. Consequently, he had hurt her. He had never meant to. And to see her cowering on the bed like a trapped animal in fear of Bellatrix Lestrange and the memory of the torture she had endured at the hands of the Dark witch with his own spell... The guilt that gnawed at his stomach made him feel nauseous.

A sudden movement in the mirror ripped Snape out of his thoughts. Morgana had withdrawn her hand, and she wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, a frown had appeared on her brow once more, and her blue eyes were filled with confusion.

No wonder, Snape thought. Morgana had never been one to carry her emotions on her sleeve. She had always been hiding behind a cold exterior, a shield thick enough to not only keep her protected from the emotions of others' but also to keep her own feelings safely locked away. She had lowered that shield just once, just long enough to be hurt and have her heart shattered into a million pieces. It would be a long time until she would ever let someone come close.

'Don't let Lucius destroy your future, Morgana,' Snape whispered, very much aware that she would not hear him. 'Don't let him turn your heart into ice. And, Charis, forgive the fool who has hurt you.'

Those two girls were too young to be hurting the way they were. They should be out dancing and laughing. They should be flirting with young men and being told how beautiful they were. Instead, they were both hiding. At least they had each other. This thought alone gave Snape some comfort. But still, he hated himself for the role he had played in both his girls' fates.

He watched Morgana leave her friend's side and once more disappear from his view. He heard a chair being dragged across the floor and a window being opened. And he didn't need Silvy to tell him this time that Morgana would spend another sleepless night. He knew she would be sitting by the window from now until the early hours of the morning, contemplating the events of the evening and fortifying her mental walls.

No, Morgana would not sleep tonight, just as little as he would, Snape knew that. He poured himself another glass and sat back in his chair, hearing nothing other than Charis' gentle breathing and, every now and then, the rustling of fabric as Morgana shifted in her chair. He'd be keeping an eye on his girls, Snape promised himself. And not just tonight. He'd be looking out for them until the day he had atoned.