Chapter Eight

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(A brief mention of suicide and guns.)

Chapter Seven: The Midnight Visitor

Dudley jerked awake on the sofa. 

"Where's the canon?" He asked stupidly, blinking bleary eyes at Morana and Harry, barely able to see them in the shadowy corner of the hut.

With a loud crash, Vernon skidded into the room, a rifle in his hands. "Who's there?" He shouted at the door, where he aimed the gun. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

Those familiar with the muggle world gasped in horrified disbelief at the thought of Vernon keeping a gun around children. With how dense Dudley was, how curious Harry was, and with the knowledge that Morana had attempted to kill herself in the past, no one thought it was safe to keep a gun around them. 

"What's a rifle?" A pureblood asked, noticing the expressions on many faces, confused.

"It's a gun. Guns are weapons capable of killing someone or permanently injuring them," Morana explained patiently, slipping her hand into Tom's. 

"Like the Killing Curse?" 

"Exactly," Morana nodded, shifting herself forward on the couch. "But you can dodge the Killing Curse - you can't dodge a bullet since most of them move at rapid speeds. Muggles have created weapons of mass destruction over the years - such weapons could destroy an entire country."

"Come now, Lady Peverell," Dumbledore chuckled, trying to lighten the solemn atmosphere. "Muggles are relatively harmless - they want peace just like the rest of us."

"Really?" Morana smiled, barely suppressing her anger. "Why do you think I'm here, hm? Do you think I traveled back in time for shits and giggles?" She laughed, a hint of madness in her eyes as daunting memories crept into the forefront of her mind. 

"Miss Potter-"

"Lord Slytherin has made it clear what people are allowed to address Lady Slytherin as, Dumbledore," Amelia Bones pointed out sharply, pinning a fierce glare on the old man as he stumbled for a response. "You will do well to respect their request, Headmaster."

Reluctantly, Dumbledore nodded and fell silent.

There was a tense moment of silence. Then the door burst from the hinges, falling into the hut and slamming against the ground. Dust flew into the air as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the tremendously large man in the doorway. 

Morana's heart stopped beating for a solid second, her body pressing her brother further into the corner. She hadn't the slightest idea who this man was, but she would protect her brother with every lingering ounce of strength in her fragile body.

"That's the Black loyalty showing up," Regulus told Irene with a proud grin, continuing their playful game about how many traits Morana had from them. He hoped Morana was more like him than Irene, not that he had anything against his daughter's mother. 

"You wish," Irene smirked, jabbing her elbow into his side. "She's a mini-me."

"Can we take a moment to admire that this 4-foot-something, petite redhead was about to throw hands with a man much larger than her for her brother?" Marlene laughed, amused at the thought of Morana attempting to fight someone despite her size and deceptively weak body.

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