Lucky

Kiss Goodbye

      At the end of January, Morgana's twentieth birthday passed with little occasion, and she was glad of it, because she was in no mood to celebrate. The wizarding world was officially at war again, and Morgana couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. The murder of Mr. Fortis had brought memories surging back of others who had made sacrifices for her - Kingsley, Samara, Timothy, Tina... all killed for standing in Lestrange's way as he tried to get to her. And now Quentin, her best friend's father. She was convinced Emma didn't forgive her for it. But the main issue was that Morgana didn't forgive herself.

        She worked ferociously, as though she thought she could stop the war singlehandedly. Now a fully-fledged auror, she was assigned any and all cases that needed an extra pair of hands. The murders of the day Lestrange redeclared war paled in comparison to the atrocities that followed. And Morgana saw it all unfold, saw the lifeless bodies of innocent muggles and muggleborns he slaughtered to make himself heard. The auror department was working tirelessly to track down the Death Eaters. Abraxas had informed them about the safehouse in Wales, but every trace of their using it had been cleared away. It was just an empty old house. They still worked tirelessly at uncovering the plans in Lucius's old documents, but most were dead ends. And all the while, more and more dead bodies turned up. The killing was relentless.

        Every night, Morgana went home and made her way through a bottle of wine, or sometimes a few glasses of firewhisky. Teddy worried endlessly, but he couldn't blame her - if he was seeing what she saw at work every day, he'd want to be numb as well.

         On the first day of February, Teddy came home to find Morgana curled up on the sofa in dog form, and sat down heavily beside her. "Morgana," he said softly. "Can you turn back please?"

       Reluctantly, she transformed back, looking at him with the same large pleading eyes the dog had. "It hurts less," she whispered, her voice cracking. "When I'm the dog, it doesn't hurt as much."

      Tears stinging his eyes, Teddy wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "It's ok," he murmured. "It's alright. You're safe. I'm here. It's ok, Morgana."

       She sobbed into his shoulder. "All those people," she cried. "Dead, because of something I started! I should have just given Lestrange what he wanted in the first place. It's not worth it."

     Teddy shook his head. "You don't mean that. It is worth it, Morgana. We can't let him win. You know from Harry what it was like the last time. We can't let Death Eaters win. Trust me, that is not the easier option."

        "Can't be harder than letting people die," Morgana remarked bitterly.

       Teddy winced. "People will still die. They won't stop killing just because they get some of what they want. The end goal is still the same: pureblood supremacy. Muggles won't be safe. Blood traitors, halfbloods, half-humans, muggleborns - none of us will be safe. That, I think, is what makes it worth resisting them."

          Swallowing hard, Morgana nodded. "I'm just struggling with it a bit, that's all."

         "I think that's fair enough," Teddy shrugged. "But you're doing so well. You're going to get justice for these people, you've made two arrests already, you're close to getting another one. And you're hosting the order here, in your home! That's invaluable, Morgana, you must know that. Speaking of which, we'd better get ready because the others will be here in half an hour."

            Morgana nodded, sniffling. There was something so strange yet so special about opening Grimmauld Place as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, the same thing her father had done twenty years ago. They met there several times a week, with Harry taking charge of most of the meetings. McGonagall would come sometimes, Hermione liaised with them (though strictly in secrecy) and senior aurors like Liz sometimes came along. They reviewed the casualties of the last week and discussed plans for the next. They were yet to get very far with the information they had, but they were certainly doing their best. And realistically, that was all they could do.