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Shooting Stars by sevs_starsisters [Reviews - 4]

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Chapter II: An Unexpected Gift

The door of the owlery was flung open so vehemently that even the most serene of the school owls took flight with a terrified screech. The poor birds weren’t used to somebody almost blasting the door off its hinges, especially not in the middle of the summer. And although they were used to noisy students who would come storming in like a horde of centaurs during the school year, they certainly expected more from the Hogwarts staff. One of the oldest owls, a majestic Great Grey, gave the intruder an indignant look, but even she soon averted her big yellow eyes. Had she met Snape’s furious gaze any longer, she might just have fallen from her perch as if hit by the Killing Curse.

And the owl had acted wisely. Cursing someone or something wasn’t beyond Severus Snape at the moment. Avada Kedavra especially wasn’t far from his mind. But even in his foulest of moods, he knew that innocent owls were the wrong target. If anyone in the Hogwarts grounds deserved to be blasted away, then it was Albus Dumbledore.

He extended his left arm to call for an owl and waited. He was very well aware that he had startled the birds and would not have been surprised if none of them had come flying. But after only a couple of moments, there was the sound of wings beating the air, and on his outstretched arm landed a tiny, barely six inch tall, red tinged Eurasian Pygmy. Snape couldn’t keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. What a coincidence that the only red owl at Hogwarts would answer his call to deliver a letter to a red-haired witch.

He placed the owl carefully on the bird bar and started to tie the letter around the bird’s disproportionately large leg. He deliberately took his time. He didn’t want to send this letter away. He didn’t want Dumbledore to turn Morgana into a spy. She had been through enough. And being sent to Malfoy Manor was certainly not what the girl needed now.

The girl? Dumbledore was right, of course. Morgana was no child anymore. During her last school year, she had been forced to grow up faster than anyone would have expected. She had been thrown into a gigantic game of wizard’s chess and had been used like a pawn, by Dumbledore as well as by Lucius Malfoy. And he, Snape, her Head of House and mentor, had let it happen. Because, for some reason that was beyond his understanding, he still wanted to believe that Dumbledore knew what he was doing.

He picked up the owl to carry it outside. Morgana lived in London now, and for a moment, Snape considered whether the journey would be too long for the tiny bird. But the animal had been so eager, and Snape didn’t have the heart to untie the letter and give it to another owl. The little one would manage, he told himself. With any luck, it would get to London before nightfall.

He looked after the owl as it took off into the cloudy summer sky. It was a stubborn little bird, just as stubborn as the young woman it was delivering its letter to. And Snape secretly hoped Morgana would keep the owl for a while and then use it to send a letter a bit further south still, to Somerset. Because there was another girl who had also been on Snape’s mind this morning: Morgana’s best friend, Charis Byrne.

Charis, too, had been through a rough time in her final year, some of which Snape himself had been the cause of. He supposed Charis was resting with her Muggle family before starting her own career at the Ministry of Magic, and he almost wished she would stay with the Muggles and not come back to the Wizarding world at all. Not that Muggles were in any less danger than wizards and witches in these dark times, but staying away from the Wizarding world would at least keep her out of the direct line of fire. But as he knew Charis Byrne, she would not hide away in the Muggle world. She had been hurt badly due to her so called impure blood status, and now she would certainly want to prove that she could do anything a pureblood could. And, by Merlin, she would surely succeed. But still.

He would never admit it to anyone, of course, but Snape was worried about his two girls. They had come to mean more to him than any other students, and he felt highly protective of them. The thought of them being thrown head first into danger, into a war, didn’t appeal to him at all. And while Charis and Morgana had been at Hogwarts, they had at least had each other. Now, Snape wasn’t sure if they had each other’s support anymore.

He had seen a distance grow between the girls during their final year at Hogwarts. They had both been wrapped up in their own personal problems, and jealousy and misunderstandings had driven them even further apart. But in the end, after they had both been hurt in ways no teenage girl should ever be hurt, they had for some weeks seemed inseparable again. But then, once more, something had happened. Morgana had withdrawn, and Charis had appeared not to have either the strength or energy to make her friend come to her or had for some reason chosen not to. What that reason might have been, however, Snape did not know.

The girls had embraced each other when they had left the castle on their last day of school and walked to Hogsmeade together. Most probably, they had shared a compartment on the train back to London, but as much as Snape knew, they had not been in contact since. Silvy would certainly have informed him of any activities, just as she had informed him about the fact that Morgana was not spending her nights in her room. The little elf was incredibly fond of her new mistress, and for some reason, she saw Snape as some sort of ally. Snape thought that this either had to do with the fact that the elf had seen him protect Morgana at Malfoy Manor or that the elf presumed he’d been somehow instrumental in setting her free. He had used the ally to his advantage and had made the elf smuggle a pair of enchanted mirrors into the girls’ trunks. This only seemed to reinforce to the little elf that Snape was someone to be trusted.

He had seen the girls admire the two-way mirrors in the display window of Dervish & Banges when he had escorted them to London. He had also heard them talking about how useful those mirrors could be once they had left Hogwarts and were unable to see each other every day. But the set had been too costly, and the girls had not bought the mirrors. Little did they know that their Potions master had returned to Dervish & Banges the next day.

But the mirrors had not yet been activated, Snape knew that. He checked the third mirror, the one that was safely tucked away among his private possessions and which he'd charmed to work with the pair from Dervish & Banges, regularly. But he’d never caught as much as a glimpse of either a pair of green or a pair of blue eyes. So for the time being, all he could do was hope that Silvy would remember his order to mention to her mistress that there was a birthday present hidden in her trunk.

* * *

‘Mistress. Mistress.’

Morgana shot off from her pillow. She had not meant to fall asleep. She had just meant to lie down for a while after Madam Nutkins’ far too heavy dinner. But obviously, she had fallen asleep, and now somebody had woken her with a start. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her wand was clutched in her hand, and she was ready to throw a hex at her attacker. But there was none, of course. It was just her little house-elf, who had been tugging persistently at her sleeve.

‘Sorry, Silvy,’ Morgana muttered and put down her wand. With her now free hand, she affectionately patted the elf on her head. The poor thing looked terrified.

‘Silvy made something for Mistress,’ the little creature piped, her bottom lip wobbling slightly.

‘Don’t call me Mistress, Silvy,’ Morgana pointed out for what seemed the millionth time. She had never seen Silvy as a servant, but the elf didn’t understand that. And once more, the little creature cowered as she was chided.

‘What have you made for me, Silvy?’ Morgana asked, smiling and trying to sound as kind as possible. The elf had been through enough at her former master’s house. She deserved better than to cower and be afraid that she would be punished for any kind of mistake.

‘Silvy has made a cake for Mistr... for Miss Morgana.’

Out of thin air appeared what looked like an over-sized chocolate muffin, with pink topping and colourful sprinkles. It looked so sweet that Morgana’s teeth ached just from looking at it.

She was just about to ask Silvy why she had baked a cake when the elf produced a candle and made it float onto the very top.

‘Silvy wishes Miss Morgana a very happy birthday,’ the elf squeaked and started to sing loudly and very falsely, but with a passion that made Morgana smile broadly.

She had never been one to make a big deal out of her birthday. At the orphanage, birthdays had been acknowledged with an extra piece of toast for breakfast and a shiny apple, which she had always given away due to her dislike of said fruit.

The first birthday that had been worth remembering had been her eleventh. She had received her Hogwarts letter, along with a letter that had carried the Malfoy crest. Mr Malfoy – Lucius – had let her know then that he had opened an account at Gringotts for her the day her parents had disappeared and that he would finance her education at Hogwarts. Back then, she had believed that he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart. Old pureblood families always looked out for one another, he had told her.

‘Miss Morgana must blow out the candle and make a wish.’

Silvy’s voice ripped Morgana out of her memories, and she did as the elf asked and blew out the candle. As for the wish, she had none. Not one that could be put in a simple sentence, anyway. There were so many things she wished for. Love and happiness, and a cure for her broken heart. But most of all she wished that she could re-live the last year of her life with the knowledge she had now. She would not fall for Lucius, she would not trust Dumbledore, and she would never break ties with her best friend.

‘Now, Miss Morgana must open her present,’ Silvy announced, her voice even more high-pitched than usual from excitement. ‘It’s in Miss Morgana’s trunk.’

Frowning slightly, Morgana once more did as she was told, expecting to find a homemade token of admiration from the little elf. To her surprise, she found a parcel between her socks.

‘Did you put this here, Silvy?’ Morgana asked, picking up the parcel. She was wary of beautifully wrapped gifts nowadays, having received one too many that had meant trouble.

But the elf nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, Miss. Silvy put it there. Silvy thinks Miss Morgana will like it.’

With slightly trembling fingers, Morgana unwrapped the parcel, one eye still on the elf. The little creature seemed on the edge of bursting with pride and excitement.

‘A mirror?’ Morgana asked. Why on earth would Silvy give her a mirror?

‘Not just any mirror, Miss.’

Morgana turned the mirror in her hand. It looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it somehow. It looked expensive and old. Silvy wouldn’t have stolen it from Malfoy Manor, now would she?

‘Silvy hopes Miss Morgana will like the mirror,’ the elf repeated. ‘Silvy knows how much Miss Morgana misses her best friend.’

Morgana’s eyes widened as she recognised the mirror she was holding in her hand. It had been part of a pair, and she and Charis had admired them in the window of Dervish & Banges the day Snape had taken them to London. They would have loved to buy them, but twenty-five Galleons had been too high a price for either of them to afford. And now Silvy had…

Morgana’s head snapped up, but she did not get a chance to ask the elf how on earth she had been able to buy the mirrors. The spot where Silvy had been standing only seconds ago was empty; the cake was perched on the writing desk and the mirror lay still in Morgana’s hand. Now all she had to do was to call for her best friend.

* * *

It was almost midnight, and Charis lay fast asleep in her cramped little bedroom at her parents’ house. She slept soundly and dreamlessly. The house was quiet, as her parents were also sleeping. Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. Nor, indeed, her little white cat, who was curled up at the bottom of Charis’ bed.

But then, a small shuddering noise broke the silence. It started as a slight rattling in the depths of Charis’ still not yet unpacked trunk. Charis didn’t stir. Then the rattling became louder, increasing in volume and strength until it turned into a rumbling. Something big seemed to want to break out of the depths of the trunk, which was now bouncing on the floor.

Charis woke with a start, clambered for the light switch of the lamp beside her bed without finding it, her eyes struggling to get used to the dark and her heart hammering in her chest. Terrified, she watched her trunk juddering in the faint moonlight. It was an eerie sight.

‘Boggart,’ Charis whispered in a fearful voice and started fishing for her wand in the top drawer of her bedside cabinet, all the while never taking her eyes off her trunk.

What would her Boggart turn into if it managed to break out of her trunk, Charis wondered. She hated spiders with a passion, and some months ago, her Boggart would certainly have turned into a huge tarantula. But now? Would it turn into a Death Eater? Would it turn into Bellatrix Lestrange? Or would she see herself, hunched and elderly, her eyes haunted from a life of loneliness and isolation?

Bracing herself, Charis crept towards the rattling trunk. She desperately hoped the noise wouldn’t wake her parents. Her dad was a shift worker, and he would go mad if his sleep was interrupted. She needed to get rid of the Boggart quickly, before it had a chance to wake up the whole house.

It had been a while since she had cast the Riddikulus charm, however. Would she still be able to? What happened to a person who failed to turn their Boggart into something funny?

Gripping her wand in one hand tightly, Charis bravely took the last steps towards the trunk, reminding herself that she had achieved some of the highest DADA marks of the year. She knew how to cast Riddikkulus. She would vanquish that Boggart. The spell already forming on her lips, she opened the trunk.

‘Riddik...’

But there was no Boggart rising from the depths. Instead, there was a beautifully wrapped parcel bouncing up and down among old robes and textbooks.

Puzzled, Charis Levitated the parcel onto her pillow where it now lay quite still, waiting to be unwrapped. Charis, however, was wary. She wouldn’t put it past some people to have planted something nasty in her trunk. The little weasel Draco Malfoy, for example, was high up on her list of suspects. But how would he have been able to access her trunk? Boys could not access the girls’ dormitories.

Charis finally turned on the light and eyed the parcel suspiciously. It looked harmless enough now. Maybe it was alright to open it.

A well-placed spell made the blue wrapping paper dissolve into thin air and the box open up. Gingerly, Charis peered inside and caught sight of a beautiful silver mirror. And peering out at her from the mirror was the reflection of her best friend, Morgana Belakane.

‘Morgana,’ Charis whispered in astonishment.

The Slytherin in the mirror grinned, and a mischievous twinkle appeared in her blue eyes. ‘Do you always open your birthday presents in the nude?’

With a whimper, Charis realised that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Despite it being a rainy summer with temperatures far below average, she was still sleeping in the nude. Quickly, she pulled the bed covers over her. Morgana had seen her naked before, but still Charis felt uncomfortable. She had never been a skinny girl, and since she had returned to her parents’ house, she had eaten far too much greasy food and exercised far too little.

Once covered, she picked up the mirror and eyed it in admiration.

‘It’s even more beautiful than I remember it,’ she breathed. Then her brow furrowed. ‘Did you buy this?’ she asked Morgana. ‘How the hell did you afford it?’

‘I can’t afford something like that,’ Morgana stated. ‘I wasn’t the one who bought it.’

‘Then who?’ Charis asked, once again feeling uneasy. Maybe she shouldn’t have unwrapped the parcel after all.

But Morgana didn’t seem worried. In fact, she was smiling.

‘Someone who’s about two and a half feet tall with bat-like ears, huge eyes and an annoyingly squeaky voice,’ she declared.

Charis’ jaw dropped. ‘Silvy? No way!’

‘Yes way,’ Morgana replied. ‘Turns out she hid my birthday present in a pair of socks.’

‘And she got one for me, too?’ Charis was already welling up. ‘How adorable.’

Morgana, however, who had never been one to be easily moved or show her emotions, rolled her eyes. ‘There wouldn’t be a point in owning a two-way mirror if there weren’t a sister piece somewhere, right?’ she stated drily.

Charis quickly blinked away her tears. ‘I have your present here, you know,’ she declared. ‘I just didn’t...’

I just didn’t know where to send it, she thought. She didn’t own an owl, and could hence not just tell the bird to go find Morgana in London somewhere. And since Morgana hadn’t contacted her, Charis hadn’t known where to send the present. But she didn’t want to tell Morgana. She didn’t want to accuse her of not getting in touch.

‘Did you have a good birthday?’ Charis asked instead. ‘How’s London? Tell me everything!’

Morgana squirmed a little. She did feel slightly guilty about not having contacted her best friend. But she tried to convince herself that her reasons had been more than valid.

‘Never mind about the present. You know I don’t like to celebrate my birthday,’ she replied. ‘And London is... well, wet. It’s been raining every day since I got here. And when it’s not raining, then there is fog as thick as the fumes in the Potions classroom.’

‘And how’s the Ministry?’ Charis wanted to know.

‘I haven’t started yet,’ Morgana informed her. ‘I’m to go there on Monday for some tests. Looks like the good grades and a letter of recommendation aren’t going to guarantee anyone a spot among the Auror trainees. We’re going to have practical tests, a physical and – oh joy – a psychological evaluation. I’m so screwed.’

Charis giggled. ‘Silly you. You’d do just fine. My start date has been moved forwards, you know. They want me to start as soon as possible. I’m really nervous!’

‘You’ll do just fine, too,’ Morgana pointed out. ‘With your grades... piece of cake. You’ll make Head of Department in a couple of years.’

Charis blushed. ‘We’ll have to do lunch all the time,’ she suggested. ‘It will be so good to see you. I’ve missed you.’

Quickly, she lowered her gaze. She knew how much Morgana hated to talk about feelings. And to be honest, she felt a little embarrassed having admitted that she had missed her best friend. But to Charis’ utter surprise, Morgana admitted that she had missed her, too.

Silence settled over the two rooms, the brightly illuminated one in Somerset and the dark one in London. Both girls were lost in their own thoughts, both contemplating just how much they missed each other. But neither breached the topic again.

‘How are your parents?’ Morgana asked after a while, the sound of her voice making it quite clear that she didn’t really care. But Charis, too, was glad for a change of topics. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings right now, not through a pair of mirrors. She wanted to tell Morgana in person when they met.

‘Oh, same old,’ she said. ‘Mum’s letting me sleep as much as I want, and Dad and I have watched loads of crap TV together. It’s been nice just resting though, to be honest. But what about you? Where are you living?’

‘I’m renting a room at the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. It smells of bat droppings and cat pee, but the roof is tight and the bed is warm. And my landlady knows how to make a decent stew.’

‘Do you feel safe there?’ Charis asked, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t like the idea of Morgana staying so close to Knockturn Alley.

But the Slytherin seemed oblivious. ‘What do you mean, safe?’

‘Well, you know,’ Charis started tentatively. ‘Knockturn Alley can be pretty dodgy.’

‘It’s not like I am camping down there,’ Morgana replied, her voice just a bit more aggressive than she had intended. She didn’t want Charis to worry. And worry she would if she knew that Morgana had spent more nights wandering about in Knockturn Alley than sleeping in her own bed.

But Charis seemed to sense something. ‘Do be careful, alright?’ she begged. ‘Don’t go looking for trouble.’

To that, Morgana said nothing, and once more, their conversation fell dead, as neither of them knew what to say.

This time, it was Charis who broke the silence.

‘I met up with Jack last week,’ she told Morgana. ‘You’ll never guess! He’s only been accepted on an apprenticeship to be a Curse Breaker in Egypt! He’ll get a Portkey at the end of August. He said we should come and visit!’

‘Egypt?’ Morgana asked. ‘Wasn’t one of the Weasley brothers working there?’

‘Yeah, I think so,’ Charis answered. ‘It sounds so exciting, all those old tombs and treasures. You know how much Jack loves History of Magic. He can’t wait to start.’

‘I bet he’ll have a good time,’ Morgana said. ‘Surely, even mummy-infested pyramids are calmer than the Ministry will be.’

Charis nodded. ‘I know. That’s why I’m so nervous. Part of me is dreading working there. There is so much damage done to the Department of Mysteries. It’s going to be a huge clean-up operation. That’s why my start date has been pulled forwards.’

‘So you’ll be playing maid?’ Morgana grinned. ‘Want me to send Silvy along with you?’

‘As long as she brings her chocolate croissants. You will thank her for me, won’t you? For the present?’

Morgana nodded. ‘I will. Guess I’ll have to buy her a pair of socks now. She’ll explode with happiness.’

Both girls giggled, and for some moments, everything just seemed like old times.

‘It’s been really good to speak to you, you know,’ Charis said later. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’

‘Why would you be worried about me?’ Morgana asked.

‘Because you’re my best friend,’ Charis replied. ‘And you live near Knockturn Alley in a house that smells like bat droppings.’

And I feel like you’re slipping away from me, Charis added in her mind. But she didn’t say it out loud.

‘Well, you didn't know that, did you?’ Morgana asked.

Charis bravely put out her chin. ‘Had I known, I would have worried even more.’

‘Silly little thing.’ Morgana snorted. ‘Just as cute as ever. When are you arriving in London, you think?’

‘Soon. I have robes to buy, flats to look at.’

‘Are you planning to rent something on your own, or will you be staying in one of the Ministry flats?’

‘I’m thinking the easiest thing is to stay at the Ministry flats for now, then look properly for something when I have time. They don't look too bad, according to the brochure.’

Morgana shrugged. ‘Yeah, guess they’re alright. I received a welcome letter from the Auror department the other day, saying that I could stay in one of their flats, too. But I don’t know.’

‘We could live together!’ Charis exclaimed, looking all excited. ‘How awesome would that be?’

‘Awesome?’ Morgana cocked an eyebrow. ‘You sleep in the nude. Besides, you’ll be bringing your cat, won’t you?’

As on cue, the little white cat that had been sound asleep at the foot end of Charis’ bed mewed.

Morgana grinned. ‘Hi, snake bait.’

Lily walked forward and sniffed the mirror, mewing.

‘She missed you,’ Charis pointed out. And Morgana couldn’t help but smile.

They talked for a while longer, making plans for lunch and flats and promising each other that they’d catch up soon. And they surely would have talked until the early hours of the morning had not a tiny, reddish owl landed on Morgana’s windowsill, carrying a roll of parchment addressed to Morgana Belakane, the smallest and darkest room at the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, London.


Shooting Stars by sevs_starsisters [Reviews - 4]

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