Chapter 1 : Not From Around Here
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There was Grindelwald and there was Voldemort. And before, there were others just like them. Ambitious young creatures willing to dissolve and crumble for power. Because power is beautiful, and power is worth it.
There is always someone. Always brutal, terrifying and pathetic in the end, but wonderful all the same. We read about their insanity in the papers and then, secretly, we admire their guts. We know that we, the mere mortals, could never be willing to sacrifice what it takes to grasp reality and to twist it. To make things change.
After all, there will always be that outrageous, despicable someone who does it for us.
Voldemort is dead now - for good, we are told. The wizarding world has stopped mourning and started rebuilding. A new generation is blossoming that does not carry our scars. They are still just children, but we have high hopes for them.
And yet, this is not the promised heaven that comes at the end of a long fairytale. The world has not a changed at its core. As in the centuries before, there remains that place, that dark, turbulent place, and it is not as empty as we think. Where there was Grindelwald and Voldemort, there is now another. And she is ready.
This is not a story of her dark glory. That part is always the same, so why tell it? Instead, allow us to introduce you to who she was when she was still one of us. Back then, she was just a moody teenaged girl named Morgan who liked to provoke and to play. Maybe she was just trying desperately to connect, or maybe she just liked to break things. Maybe she was just dazed and confused, like so many others. We’ll let you be the judge of that.
Just know that we have no regret. We all saw it coming and we let it. We needed it, like we always do. Evil? Call it whatever you want to. We call it change, and we must welcome it.
* * *
“What do you mean, ‘House’?” Morgan asked the blond, thin boy blocking her path.
“You don’t know about the four Houses?” he pressed, eyes widening. A strange shadow slid over his face. “Weren’t those your parents at the platform?”
“Well, of course.”
He frowned. “They are definitely of an old wizarding family…”
Morgan scanned the memory of her mother and father, arms linked, smiling as their only daughter headed towards the train. They were all velvet and silver. Expensive robes shifting in the wind, tailored coats moving comfortably in tune with their bodies. The only way Morgan knew that they weren’t a poster was that her mother was a little bit taller than her father, and it was her firm grip that led the distracted man at her side, not the other way around.
Morgan wondered how any of this could have been enough for an identification of heritage. And then, with a sinking disappointment, she remembered the Koshka crest engraved onto her father’s briefcase: A single golden needle, depicted to look more like a disembodied spike, on a checkered red and blue background. The simplest of images, and the oldest. And also, a dead giveaway.
“What are you trying to say?” Morgan dared the boy to come up with a viable explanation for being caught digging under her family tree.
“They must have gone to Hogwarts,” he insisted.
Morgan sighed and tried to push past him. Cornering a girl on her way to the toilet and grilling her about her origins was a sign of a serious deficiency in the taste department, and Morgan was not going to stick around in the hopes of seeing more of this individual’s brand of charm.
“We’re not from around here,” she stated with a pointed finality.
“Oh yeah?” his face lit up again, “Then you must be from one of the French families! My father has many French connections. What did you say your name was again?” He stretched out a pale hand. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”
“We are Russian,” Morgan replied coolly, leaving his hand hanging in the air.
“Oh…” he hesitated, clearly growing increasingly insecure about this entire networking endeavor. “Well, I hope you will be sorted into Slytherin. It is the best House.”
As it turned out, Morgan was not sorted into Slytherin. But Draco Malfoy would always linger somewhere on the edges of her life, as would many others like him.
Others such as, say, Theodore Nott, whom Morgan had already spotted at the platform.
She had looked for him, actually, her eyes wandering as she hugged her parents and promised to be good. But, like eleven-year-old boys often do, he had blatantly ignored the girl and drifted towards a group of five or six other boys who had already managed to disentangle themselves from their fretting parents. The group was gathered at the end of the platform, all excitement and bravado. They were sleek and clean, and they sported sly, self-content little smiles. They greeted Theodore with pats on the back and loud, affirmative laughs.
As her blush slowly waned away, Morgan began hating every single one of them. For being loud, obnoxious, and for taking away the only person she knew.
Luckily for her, a few hours later, Morgan would be sorted into Gryffindor, where she could live out and nourish this feeling for years to come.
Poor Draco Malfoy would never know why his diplomatic attempt failed so miserably that day. It did not happen very often, after all, that someone brought more prejudice and coldness to the table than he did. Someday in the future, of course, all of this would change. Just as Morgan began hating the Slytherins for her own reasons, she would also stop hating them for her own reasons and in her own time. And it would be a very inconvenient time indeed, for all parties involved.
For now, though, the roles were set and the board was prepared. Only a few more pieces needed to fall into place.
That crucial constellation would be completed before the Hogwarts Express even reached its destination. You see, after she pushed past the slightly baffled Malfoy, Morgan mistook her compartment for the one right next to it, which was incidentally occupied by a bored pair of red-haired twins known as Fred and George Weasley.
I hope you guys like it so far! The narrator is laying it on a bit thick now, but soon we will get to properly meet Morgan :D
I would be greatful for any opinions!
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