VII: Morgana’s Decision

Chapter VII: Morgana's Decision

Morgana let her gaze wander towards the huge clock hanging on the wall of the Entrance Hall of the Ministry of Magic. A quarter to six. As so often, she was early. Sometimes, she wondered where she had picked up that habit.

Well, she thought to herself, better make the best of those fifteen minutes. No time like the present to practice observation techniques.

Silently, Morgana slipped into the shadows of the hall, memorising her surroundings and the people around her. Moody had said that he would soon test them on a situation like this. They would be given ten minutes to study a room full of people, and then Moody would asked them questions. 'What colour was the shirt of the wizard with the green hat? Which door was used the most over the last three minutes?' Most trainee Aurors found such tests tedious to say the least, but Morgana quite enjoyed them. It was quiet work and required both skill and brains. Today, however, Morgana found her focus slip, and after some minutes, she gave up completely. Instead, she started thinking about the events of the previous evening and was suddenly glad that she was early for her meeting with Tonks. She had quite a few things to mull over. It had been a long day and an even longer night.

She had been sitting by the window for quite some time, until long after midnight, in fact. At first, she had managed to convince herself that she was keeping an eye on the happening down in Diagon Alley. What if more Death Eaters arrived and the Aurors were taken unawares? She could warn them then, help them or inform the Ministry. But no more Death Eaters had shown themselves that night, and as the last sounds from the alley had died away and the darkness had become too impenetrable to even make out the Aurors still standing guard outside Fortescue's, Morgana had to admit to herself that there were other reasons for her still being awake.

The Death Eater attack right outside had not upset her as much as could have been expected. Certainly, she was wondering why Fortescue of all people had been targeted, but the attack itself had not been any surprise. 'Constant vigilance,' Mad-Eye Moody drummed into his trainees about a hundred times a day, and with every right. Attacks like the one on Fortescue were something everyone would soon have to become used to. No one was safe anymore. Morgana knew that, and she was prepared.

Other things that had happened that evening, however, she had not been prepared for. She had not been prepared for whiff of roses that had come from Charis' hair. She had not been prepared for the memories it had awoken. And she had most certainly not been prepared for her own reaction. Had the Death Eaters not attacked, Morgana did not know what she would have done. Maybe she would have kissed Charis. Maybe she would have made love to her. Maybe she would just have held her in her arms. But when the Death Eaters had attacked, they had made a racket and broken the spell. And later, when she had wrapped her arms around Charis to console her, Morgana had felt utterly confused and scared. Yes, scared, she had to admit that to herself. She had been terrified. Not by the Death Eaters outside, however. She had been quite confident that they'd clear off as soon as they had carried out the deed they had planned. But the thought that she and Charis had been at Fortescue's only hours earlier, that they could have been caught up in everything and that Charis could have been hurt... that thought had scared Morgana beyond belief.

'Wotcher!'

Tonks' voice ripped Morgana out of her thoughts, and she greeted the young Auror, almost grateful for the woman turning up early. Who knew where her thoughts would have carried her otherwise.

'Ready to go?' Tonks asked cheerily.

'More than ready,' Morgana replied. She had been ready all day, ever since she had sent the tiny, red tinged owl to Dumbledore in the early hours of the morning, telling him that she had thought about his offer and that she wished to speak to him. He had replied before breakfast, informing her that Tonks would meet her at six and escort her. Where they would be going, he had not said, of course. One could never know if an owl was going to be intercepted. But Morgana was certain that she and Tonks were heading for number twelve, Grimmauld Place. And indeed, a few minutes later, she and Tonks Apparated into a familiar-looking London street, which was lined with tall terraced houses.

'You've been here before, right? You know how we get it?'

Morgana nodded. When she had come here with Snape and Charis, Snape had given them each a piece of parchment which had said: The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. Once they had memorised the address, he had incinerated the parchments and then told them to focus on their destination. Then a battered door had appeared out of thin air between numbers eleven and thirteen, and the houses either side had begun to shift, just as they were now, making way for another building which seemed to squeeze its way to the foreground.

'Good little witch,' Tonks commented with a grin. 'I messed up horribly the first time I was supposed to make the building appear. It took us hours to get in afterwards. Moody almost wrung my neck.'

Happily, she began to trot up the front steps as Morgana followed in her wake. At the top, she paused to look around furtively.

'All clear,' she said with a wink and tapped the door with her wand. There was a clatter of a heavy chain and the clicks of many locks, and then the door creaked open.

The hallway was as dimly lit and gloomy as it had been on Morgana's last visit; so much so that Tonks, unable to see properly, stubbed her toe on the elephant leg umbrella stand and nearly went flying.

'Ow! Bloody thing!' Tonks gave the elephant leg a kick, which sent it crashing down on the floor.

The screech that followed the noise was deafening. 'Scum! Filth! Half-breeds! Begone from this place! The most ancient and noble House of Black...'

A door flew open at the end of the corridor, and rushing out came Remus Lupin. Ignoring the two young women, he made a dash for the screaming portrait of Walburga Black and, with what seemed like an enormous effort, he managed to pull the curtains shut again.

'Ooops.' Tonks grinned sheepishly at Morgana and then turned towards Lupin with an apologetic look on her face. 'Sorry.'

'Should have known.' Remus shook his head and leaned on the door jamb. He sounded exasperated, but the amused twinkle in his eyes gave him away. Obviously, he didn't find Tonks' clumsiness all that annoying.

'Wotcher, Remus,' Tonks said quietly with a small, apologetic smile. 'You remember Morgana?'

The wizard smiled broadly at Mad-Eye Moody's newest protégée. 'I do indeed. She makes a nice breakfast, as I recall.'

Morgana smiled back at her former professor. She had always liked him and had been one of the few Slytherins to appreciate his classes. And he had been nice to her the previous night she had spent at Grimmauld Place. When he had caught her sneaking into the kitchen before sunrise, he had not sent her back to bed but instead made her a cup of tea and talked about the weather. He had even given her some pointers on how to improve her Patronus charm, a charm which she, despite her best efforts, had still not mastered properly. Maybe, if she asked him, Remus would help her once more?

'Ugly bleeding thing,' Tonks muttered under her breath as she waved her wand in order to set the umbrella stand back upright.

'It is quite ugly indeed,' Morgana agreed. 'Why doesn't anyone throw it out?'

'We tried, once,' Remus confided. 'Kreacher, the house-elf that lives here, made such a racket that we had to put it back again.'

'That elf is one turnip short of a casserole,' Tonks whispered conspiratorially, stashing her wand back into the waistband of her jeans. 'Is Albus here yet, Remus?'

'Yes, he's in there.' Remus pointed at door that led to the lounge. 'He refused to budge when good old Mrs Black started screaming, as he's having chocolate cake. Molly was here this morning, you know.'

'Ah. So that would be why YOU are here then.' Tonks smiled fondly at the shabby werewolf.

'I do have a soft spot for chocolate cake,' Remus admitted. It looked for a moment as if he were about to smile back at the young Auror, but in the last moment he seemed to change his mind. Instead, he looked down, scratched his head and shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

Tonks' face fell. 'I suppose we shouldn't keep Albus waiting,' she pointed out. 'Go on through, Morgana. Remus and I will be in the kitchen if you need us.'

'Actually,' Remus started half-heartedly, avoiding the young Auror's eyes, 'I was just about to leave.'

'Oh, I see.' Now Tonks sounded thoroughly disappointed.

'Then again, there IS more cake in the kitchen,' Remus mumbled after a few moments of awkward silence. 'We could always...'

'Have a piece?' Tonks exclaimed. She smiled, and it lit up her whole face. 'Yes, of course. I'd love to! It's my favourite.'

'Well,' Remus continued, still busily avoiding eye contact with Tonks, 'I'd better put the kettle on then. See you later, Morgana.'

'Yeah, see you later, pickle!' And with that, Tonks followed Remus through to the kitchen with somewhat of a spring in her step.

Morgana looked after Remus and Tonks as they walked towards the kitchen, wondering idly if anything was going on between the two. There seemed to be some kind of attraction between them. The smiles Tonks was giving Remus were certain proof of that. But what had Remus' wand in a knot? Why was he acting so... so cold? Even a callous Slytherin could see that he liked Tonks. Why was he being so awkward?

Well, they were adults, Morgana told herself. And their problems weren't any of her business. She had quite a few problems of her own to deal with. Shaking her head, she turned and knocked smartly on the lounge door.

'Come in?'

Morgana unconsciously took a deep breath before entering the lounge, where she saw Albus Dumbledore sitting on a tatty, chintzy armchair, smiling broadly, with cake crumbs peppered all over his long, white beard.

'Good evening Professor D... um, Albus.' Morgana grinned with embarrassment. She still didn't feel close enough to Dumbledore to be calling him by his first name. But he had insisted during their last meeting.

'Morgana, welcome, welcome!' Dumbledore smiled and opened his arms wide in greeting. 'It's wonderful to see you again. Please, do take a seat.'

As Morgana carefully sat down, Dumbledore continued with the pleasantries. 'Can I interest you in some of Molly's finest cake? You would be doing me a favour if you had a slice. I'm afraid I may well eat the lot unless someone helps me.'

'You mean Remus actually left some?' Morgana gasped in mock-surprise. The playful banter between Remus and Tonks had given her the impression that her former professor was somewhat of a cake monster.

Dumbledore laughed heartily. 'Remus and I do like our cake; it cannot be denied.' He set about cutting off a large slice of cake and sent a plate and a huge cup of tea soaring over to Morgana.

'How are you?' he asked, smiling. 'How is the Ministry treating you?'

Morgana accepted the tea and cake, resting the plate gingerly on her lap. 'The Ministry is fine. Hard work, but good fun. But I'm starting to understand why Alastor Moody is called Mad-Eye.'

'Yes,' Dumbledore agreed, 'his methods are somewhat... unconventional, shall we say. But his record speaks for itself.'

He paused and took an unhurried swig of his tea. 'I'm glad you're settling in at the Ministry. Tell me,' he started, looking over the top of his half-moon spectacles meaningfully, 'how was the mood there today? I'm sure the Auror office has been busy cleaning up in Diagon Alley. I assume you have heard about the Death Eater attack.'

Morgana put down the tea cup she had just lifted up. 'I saw it happen. We saw it happen, Charis and I,' she clarified.

Dumbledore raised his bushy white eyebrows in surprise. 'You were there when the attack took place?'

'We were in my room,' Morgana answered a little defensively. 'Fortescue's is down the street. And those Death Eaters weren't operating too smoothly. Even a deaf man would have heard them.'

'Merlin's beard!' Dumbledore exclaimed. 'It is lucky you and Charis were out of harm's way. But it wasn't just Fortescue who was targeted, unfortunately.'

'I heard they got Ollivander,' Morgana said quietly. 'Rumours spread fast.'

Dumbledore nodded sadly. 'Yes, they did. It seems no one and nowhere is safe now. And yet there are still those who refuse to believe that Voldemort is back, despite irrefutable evidence to the contrary.'

'Sometimes the truth is too scary to believe in it, I guess,' Morgana pointed out.

'Ignorance and apathy are yet scarier still,' the old wizard replied sagely. 'Inaction will not defeat Voldemort.'

Morgana nodded pensively, crumbling some cake between her fingers. 'You believe he can be stopped? Voldemort, I mean?'

'Absolutely. Voldemort takes many things for granted, and that will be his downfall eventually.' Dumbledore sipped his tea calmly, maddeningly failing to elaborate further.

Morgana watched him with a calculating gaze. For all his faults, Dumbledore was a great wizard, and if he believed Voldemort could be vanquished, then it must be true.

'Albus,' Morgana started, becoming more and more aware that Dumbledore would not be the one to mention the Order first. 'You were the one to send me a letter in the first place about joining the Order. Now, tell me: what do you want me to do? What can I do to help bring Voldemort down?'

Dumbledore looked at the young trainee Auror in front of him, his blue eyes twinkling with a steely determination. 'Every man and woman who offers their services to the Light is another blow to Voldemort's rise. Every scrap of information we can gain about his plans takes us one step closer to foiling them. And everyone who joins the Order will be an absolute keystone in bringing him down.'

Morgana crossed her arms. Not for the first time, she had a feeling her former headmaster had a plan already.

'As I said to you before, each Order member has a unique type of information they can provide. And you are no exception, Morgana.'

Morgana narrowed her eyes. She hated the fact that Dumbledore never cut straight to the chase. 'There are already Aurors in the Order, so I doubt you will want to have Ministry related information from me. I also doubt you want me to spy on my landlady. And cake is Molly's business. So? What do you want from me?'

Dumbledore put his teacup down before continuing. 'You have links with a family who, despite the incarceration of the father, still sits on Voldemort's right hand side.'

Morgana felt her heart skip a beat. She couldn't believe what the old wizard in front of her was suggesting. 'You have to be joking.'

'I'm afraid I am quite serious,' Dumbledore replied, peering once again over his spectacles.

'The Malfoys? You want me to give you information about the Malfoys?' Morgana felt her mouth going dry. With Lucius in Azkaban, she had thought, somehow even hoped, that she would never again be involved with the Malfoys.

'That is correct,' Dumbledore confirmed. 'Just because Lucius is serving time in Azkaban does not mean that the Malfoys are now useless to Voldemort. Quite the opposite, in fact.'

Morgana could not help but flinch when the name Lucius was mentioned. The wound was still fresh, and she had still not come to terms with her feelings towards the blond wizard. She had loved him once.

Locking her emotions away, Morgana sat up straight. 'And what exactly do I have to do with this? How do you want me to get hold on information about the Malfoys? In case you have forgotten, Draco and I are not exactly friends. We're not owling on a daily basis. And Narcissa...'

Morgana broke off, swallowing dryly. I slept with her husband, she thought. Narcissa has always been kind to me, and I have deceived her. How can I ever look her in the eyes again?

'You were sponsored by the Malfoys growing up in the orphanage,' Dumbledore explained, either not noticing Morgana's anguish or ignoring it completely. 'They are currently in social disgrace, and it would help them to look good if they were to continue charitable acts whilst Lucius is in prison, such as becoming reacquainted with their former beneficiary. Plus, you are a pureblood. If the Malfoys are seen to extend the hand of friendship to a vulnerable pureblood, it may also make them look good in Voldemort's eyes. And this is desperately needed as a result of Lucius' many mistakes and imprisonment.'

Morgana snorted. 'Are you trying to tell me that you're sending me to Malfoy Manor to make the Malfoys look good?' she asked, unable to stop the sarcastic tone in her response.

'No, I am not,' Dumbledore replied patiently. 'I am explaining the reasons why the Malfoys will accept you without question. And in the mean time, you will be able to get your feet under their table and provide us with information as to life inside the Malfoy residence. For example, I have a feeling it is only a matter of time before Voldemort himself makes Malfoy Manor his permanent residence. And as for Draco... Let us just say the boy is embroiled deeper than any of us could have imagined. Now this is the kind of information that no one else in the Order is able to provide. It's crucial.' He paused, his blue eyes fixed on the red-haired witch. 'Will you do it?'

Morgana stuck out her chin. 'Spy on the Malfoys? Albus, when it comes to Draco, I have no limits whatsoever. I dislike him enough to spread the information of whether he still sleeps with a teddy bear whilst wearing Babbity Rabbity pyjamas. But Narcissa... Narcissa has been nothing but kind to me. Spying on her doesn't feel right.'

Dumbledore took a deep breath, weighing his response carefully. 'Narcissa is aware that her family are in way over their heads. But there is little she can do to change the situation,' he said delicately. 'The purpose of spying on the Malfoys is not to bring the Malfoys down; it is to bring Voldemort down. And taking Voldemort down is the only way that the Malfoys can be saved. Because, believe it or not, I believe that Draco and Narcissa can be saved.'

The old man looked hard at Morgana, watching the young woman as she considered her answer. And she looked right back at him unflinchingly.

Trust a Gryffindor to turn espionage into something noble, she thought to herself as she crushed more cake between her fingers. But Dumbledore's arguments were valid, no doubt. Narcissa was no Death Eater, and despite the woman's upbringing, Morgana doubted that Narcissa would have ever gotten involved with the Dark Lord had it not been for her husband. And Draco... well, Draco was a conniving little ferret. But he, too, had never had a choice. No one had a choice with Lucius around; Morgana knew that all but too well.

Could Draco and Narcissa really be saved when all of this was over? Morgana wondered silently. Was there still enough Light within them to save them from the Dark?

Then, quite suddenly, Morgana Belakane made her decision. She wouldn't do this for Dumbledore and definitely not for Draco. She would do it for Narcissa's sake and her own. Narcissa didn't deserve to live in shame just because her husband had fallen from grace. And maybe, somehow, Morgana hoped that helping Narcissa would clear her own conscience. She owed Narcissa for having had an affair with her husband.

'When do you want me to go?' Morgana asked quietly.

'It will take some arranging, of course,' Dumbledore replied. 'You cannot simply turn up at Malfoy Manor out of the blue. You would have to be invited, but we can see to that. I would imagine, all being well, you may get an invite sometime in the next month or so.'

'Draco will throw a fit when I show up,' Morgana replied ruefully, silently hoping that her invite would arrive after Draco had returned to school. But somehow, she doubted that she would be that lucky.

'You will have to try hard to repair the bridges between you and to hold your tongue,' Dumbledore advised. 'Can you do that?'

Morgana arched an eyebrow and stared defiantly at her former headmaster. 'I'm Slytherin, Albus,' she pointed out. 'I will do anything to achieve my goals. And if the information I can give you will help to bring Voldemort down, then this is my goal. I'll hold my tongue. Or bite it off if need be.'

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. This was the acceptance he had been waiting for.

'Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Morgana Belakane,' he smiled serenely. 'It's a pleasure having you on board.'