Fairytale Dreaming ((Morgana))

[Kellyn Ellison H3]

She missed her mother. It was a childish thought and one that made her slightly ashamed because, at thirteen years of age she was a bit too old to pout about missing her mum, but it was true nonetheless. It wasn’t just her mum that she was missing but all of the people she left behind every time she went to Hogwarts; the numerous people who fussed around her mother had become her surrogate family over the years. Sure, she didn’t have a dad or a firm family life like other kids but Kellyn could honestly say that some of the models her friends adored were her ‘aunts’, ‘uncles’ and ‘cousins’. After growing up around them, spending Christmases and birthdays with them, Kellyn really couldn’t understand why people made such a fuss over buying posters and magazines just to see their idols. In a way, Kellyn was quite grateful to the shyness her younger self had possessed since her mother’s agent had tried to pressure them into publishing her name on the few photos of the model and her daughter together. She had been too shy to want to be recognised by people for such a thing and her mother had agreed but placated her agent with a promise of ‘later’. Fortunately for Kellyn, ‘later’ hadn’t quite come yet.

Kellyn yawned and stretched lazily, tucking her letter away in a pocket absent-mindedly as she stood up. It was annoying to have to remember not to leave any of her mother’s letters lying around unless she wanted one of her nosy dorm-mates to see the signature and connect the dots between famous model, Allison Ellison, and ordinary girl, Kellyn Ellison. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her mother – quite the contrary, Kellyn absolutely adored her mother and their life together – but being approached by people who didn’t want to be friends with her because of who she was but rather because of who her mother was would be an annoying and incessant part of life if the news was made public. She’d much rather be left alone with the friends who liked her for herself.

She had thought it would be a nice day for a walk, hence her brushing off her friends and heading out alone, but it was an unusually warm day for Britain and Kellyn generally disliked letting anything unusual pass her by. Everyday life was so boring that unusual events had to be grasped firmly lest they sneak away. For some reason, she wasn’t quite sure why, Kellyn had decided to celebrate the unusual warmth by lying down on the grass near the trees with her eyes closed. Maybe there was a better chance of a handsome prince finding her if she had her eyes closed. Anything was possible. A shadow fell across her and Kellyn shifted her head slightly to where she guessed the person was since she didn’t really want to open her eyes and miss the chance of her prince finding her. “Are you a wicked old crone on a unicycle, juggling spoons?” Kellyn questioned, treating the idea like it was an everyday occurrence and therefore perfectly normal.

[Morgana Graas S2]

She hated the moon. Poets found it romantic. Lovers liked to walk hand-in-hand in it. Painters found it mystical. The moon made her feel sick. She preferred it when the sky was bleak, with no moon it. Using a moment when she was alone, Morgana pressed a hand to her forehead and opening her nightstand found the goblet with pain-relief potion she monthly received from Snape. Even if Morgana was quite sure that the professor wouldn’t bother with making it, if she wasn’t from his own house. Taking a sip Morgana felt the stinging bangs at her temples melt away as she looked into the calendar and sighed. It was full moon. She would have to endure the transformation to a werewolf yet again. But that was her burden to bear, and no one but her family and some closest friends – who could be counted on one hand’s fingers – didn’t even know of it. She felt exhausted and energetic at the same time. But there was still a while to go until the moon would work it’s magic. And she had forgotten her book in the gardens. Well, perhaps some more time in sunshine would do her good anyway.

Throwing a self-conscious glance in the mirror Morgana smoothed out some non-existent wrinkles from his suit, compromising of a one piece trousers and sleeveless top with a zipper in the back, and patted the bow her red sash made on her left hip. Accompanied with red boots and her hair pulled back with red clips she did look her part of a young stylish Slytherin and the youngest of Graas. Casually classy, reserved but with the red flashes in her outfit adding playfulness, innocently sexy, as befitting her age. Drawing a serene smile on her lips Morgana floated through the common room and the dungeons until entering the sweetly-smelling garden. At least, unlike her father, her senses hadn’t been boosted by the fraction of werewolf blood in her. If her smelling had been better, the smells would have probably been even overbearing. The small pebbles on the paths of the garden grinding quietly against each other under her feet she made her way towards where she had been reading before. Her previous place had already been occupied however.

Morgana looked calmly down at the girl – around her age, or perhaps a year older – that was lying on the ground. She was feeling too nauseated to be the part of the careless snarky Slytherin – she was a Slytherin thanks to her subtlety and skill, not her meanness – Morgana didn’t respond to the girls question. At first. She wearily thought that this conversation about old crones and fairy-tales would be more suiting for Leandra, even as she looked around for her book, “The wicked part might arguably be truthful, whereas I don’t have an unicycly and instead of something as fascinating as sthingys might be I’m merely looking for my book.” Spying the leather-bound copy of stories on the back of a rock-statue of a duck Morgana side-stepped the girl on the ground and went to retrieve the book, off-handedly throwing a reference to a tale over her shoulder, “And now that I’ve found it I had better go and find a house to fall on me so that someone could steal my shoes.”

[Kellyn Ellison H3]

Her family – the one made up of her mother and various other models, actors, actresses and show-business people; not her father, his second wife and her half-sister – would laugh to see her now, lying on the floor with her clothes sprinkled liberally with grass and a few specks of mud. During the summer, Kellyn was always surrounded by such beautiful and fantastic people that she would feel ashamed to look anything but her best. She could never appear before them while looking like she did now but that didn’t mean she didn’t show them her true personality. Her family had accepted every odd little part that made Kellyn herself and had shown her wonders that had opened her eyes to the adult world before she had been ten years old. It had probably been hard for her mother, Kellyn reflected sympathetically, to see her only child grow up at the speed Kellyn had done. Then again, there were times, much like now, when Kellyn seemed to have the mental age of a young child.

The gardens were peaceful, and that was exactly why Kellyn had found herself wandering towards them. It was nearly time for her to make the decision about her future, as the letter had reminded her before Kellyn had crumpled it up and shoved it in her pocket. It was too much of a good day to dwell on such serious matters, Kellyn had informed herself cheerfully. Her fourteenth birthday was a rotten time to choose as the deadline for her decision. At fourteen, she wouldn’t be old enough to know what she wanted! At least, she didn’t think so. At thirteen she didn’t really know what she wanted and fourteen couldn’t be much different, could it? She did want to be a part of the world she had mostly grown up in; she loved the atmosphere and being around her family every day was a good reason to choose that life but did she want that forever? Her wants would change but it was hard to prove that to her mother’s agent, and possibly hers soon.

The person didn’t reply and Kellyn was just about to open one eye lazily, wondering if she had been mistaken about a person being there and so had just been talking to herself, when a girls voice floated to her ears. “Ah, admitting to wickedness. An educated guess tells me that you’re a Slytherin. Should I fear a curse coming my way, oh wicked crone?” It might seem odd that she laughed about the idea of being cursed but Kellyn hadn’t been unfortunate enough to come across the meaner Slytherins in the school which meant that she mostly disregarded the stereotype of all Slytherins being mean. Stereotypes weren’t worth heeding, in her view. Very often, people weren’t what you expected them to be. Kellyn opened her eyes, peering over at the girls shoes curiously. “I can understand why someone would want to steal them,” she stated agreeably, “they are rather pretty boots.”

[Morgana Graas S2]

As she bent to retrieve her book from the top of the statue a brand new flash of pain spread through her head. Breathing through her mouth slowly Morgana dropped herself to sit on the back of the stone-duck and closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her pale face for a moment. As the lash of pain faded into nothingness again Morgana concentrated her eyes on the girl again. A third year or so perhaps. Not someone from Slytherin – not that Slytherins would roll around on the ground in public like this – and not a Raven, or Morgana would knew her thanks to Leandra. That left the options of either a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff. Neither was overly adorable prospect. But as Morgana didn’t entirely feel up to standing up again, she’d have to deal with it. At least the gardens were peaceful which helped quite a lot, both her nerves and how she felt.

“Slytherin,” Morgana agreed with a simple statement, absent-mindedly responding with the phrase expected from a Slytherin, “No curses today. I’m afraid your bleeding corpse would ruin the scenery here. And I do doubt I’m young enough not to be called a crone.” But apparently the girl had guts. Not everyone had guts to lay with their eyes closed in the company of a Slytherin and call them a crone and then laugh over it. Maybe not the wisest thing though. Morgana could see plenty of people urging the girl to react with a slight jinx. Perhaps not only Damon out of his own brothers. And if given enough of a reason even he might do it. Even Morgana herself might have… if she wasn’t feeling nauseated and wek. Hardly a time to pick a fight with someone older. Not that practicing against older students was bad. No, it was rather educating at times. Not that Morgana didn’t learn heaps from her practice-duels with her brothers.

“I wouldn’t wear them, if they weren’t pretty, honey,” Morgana commented somewhat patronizingly as she turned her leg lightly to peer at the ankle-length boots, “And on an odd enough occasion I didn’t even buy them myself. They had caught brother’s eyes and he had them brought to me.” Perhaps being a model did pay off. At least Gabriel had some eye on what looked good or original. But seeing all the hullabaloo with his posters, Morgana wasn’t about to share the info. Hopefully this girl wasn’t a fan, or if she was she wouldn’t recognize her. “And I’m afraid I must respond with a hex or two if you try to steal my boots. I’m Morgana by the way.”

[Kellyn Ellison H3]

It was rather a shame she now had company, Kellyn groused silently as she pulled herself into a sitting position. It was rare for her to have a moment to herself since Kellyn, while not being wildly popular around the school, did have her fair share of friends and companions. That the younger girl seemed to be in pain alarmed Kellyn somewhat but she kept her mouth shut. People generally didn’t want to reveal their weaknesses to someone they had only just met, nor was it any of her business in the first place. All the same, Kellyn discreetly flicked her eyes toward the girl every once in a while to ensure that nothing terrible was occurring that would result in a trek to the Hospital Wing. Dealing with Madam Pomfrey was an ordeal that Kellyn would rather do without for the moment, thanks.

“Bleeding corpses do tend to ruin the scenery quite a lot, I’ve found.” Kellyn suppressed a secretive smile, her thoughts wandering back to one of the scripts her mother had let her read through before sending it back to the producer. It hadn’t been so much a horror-filled script as a roll around on the floor laughing hysterically-filled script. “You’re quite right; you’re not old enough for the third stage in a females life. So since you’re neither a crone nor a mother, you have to be the maiden. That’s just how it works,” she informed the younger girl brightly, her light-hearted nature not at all dampened by the horror stories she had heard about Slytherins. Very little truth existed in the gossip and rumours her friends loved to listen to and she wasn’t going to start putting faith in them now. If the girl had been going to curse her, Kellyn thought reasonably, she would have done so earlier or, at the very least, insulted her already.

Rather than offending, the patronising tone merely amused her. Never before had a girl reminded her quite so much of the models Kellyn had fraternised with since her childhood. There was just something about her tone and the way she gazed at her boots that evoked the memory. “I won’t try to steal your boots, I promise. As lovely as they are, I’m sure I would feel horribly guilty if I took something that your brother had bought for you. And I’m not really too eager about that hex coming my way if I did dare to, to be quite honest.” Considering that her hands had small streaks of dirt across them, Kellyn chose to incline her head in greeting rather than offer her hand. “Kellyn Ellison.”

[Morgana Graas S2]

Hearing the low ruffle of clothes Morgana opened her eyes that she had tiredly shut and met the girls eyes calmly. Her eyes did take in all the dirt and grass on her clothes – including the smashed piece of grass sticking out from her forehead as a make-shift horn – but politely refrained from commenting. “I’m sure you know a lot about bleeding corpses from your own experience. Perhaps, due to the trouble all that bloody silk and satin would present, the daily Hufflepuff offers with the violins are stuffed into the fireplace in the common room, rather than sacrificed in a more flashy way,” Morgana ironically mused as she tilted her head and rested a hand regally on the stone duck’s head. Not that Slytherins had ever burned anything but a shocking amount of paper. She burned a lot of paper as well. Couldn’t leave ones thoughts simply laying around on paper after all, all the blackmail would be suffocating. The number of things burnt was good probably though… the dungeons could get quite chilly.

Morgana smirked critically. She was farm from a crone and even so she would currently make a pretty fantastic-looking crone, as she saw from the mirrors and heard from others lips. She was too young to be a mother. Too young physically already. Whereas maiden? Well, maidens didn’t usually turn into ferocious werewolves once a month, did they? Such beasts didn’t quite fit into the classical image of an innocent maiden. Not that she was going to tell this girl about her nightly adventures during full moon: “Maiden? I suppose I could live with that for the bigger part of the time. As long as I won’t get some knights in dull armor kidnapping me, in their illusioned pretext of saving me. I do doubt I’d take very kindly to that.”

“I’m sure my brother doesn’t even remember he bought boots,” Morgana stated calmly, taking a bit better breath as she felt the effects of Snape’s potion kicking is slowly and dulling the frenzied drumming inside her skull, “Still smart to avoid beign hexed. I’ve been taught well enough.” And the girl introduced herself. With the last name. She had been hoping that the first name would suffice and she could avoid saying who she was. The name Graas had a certain reputation in the school, seeing how many of them there were here, and seeing that their parents had had quite volatile character while attention Hogwarts. Perhpas the girl would continue to be blissfully oblivious however, so Morgana offered a weak curve of one lip-corner into a smile: “Your pleasure, I’m sure. As stated previously already, Morgana Graas.”

[Kellyn Ellison H3]

The dirt was beginning to annoy her now. Despite her happy-go-lucky attitude, Kellyn had a bit of a vain streak hidden somewhere, probably developed from the type of world she had experienced while living with her mother. Fishing the wand from its hiding place, Kellyn cast a series of spells to eliminate the mud, grass and other unwanted additions from her clothes and skin. Much better, her vain side purred in satisfaction. “Hufflepuffs are more vicious than other people think we are.” Kellyn joked light-heartedly. She knew exactly what some people in the other houses thought of Hufflepuffs but it didn’t bother her. One day, they would be proved wrong and that was enough for her. “No one ever suspects the Hufflepuff so we rarely get into trouble.”

“Maidens don’t have to be helpless damsels who need rescuing from everything. It’s just a stage of every girl’s life.” That had been one of the very first things her mother taught her after taking her away from her father and Rachel. Her mother had few beliefs but she stuck to them firmly, as did her daughter. After all, everyone needed something to guide them in the absence of their parents. The maiden, mother and crone thing had originated from the pagan faiths but Kellyn wasn’t at all religious so it didn’t bother her. It was just a way of seeing the life set out before her. Maidens didn’t have to be defenceless – that was one of the few things she disliked about fairytales – just as crones didn’t have to be ugly and wicked. It was their knowledge and experience that set them apart from maiden and mother, nothing else.

Introducing herself with her last name always made her a bit nervous – hah! More like paranoid – but not enough to hide her heritage. If people connected her to her mother then she would deal with it when it happened. Everything happened for a reason, it just took time for the reasons to become clear sometimes. Ellison, while not an overly common surname, was hardly rare anyway. There were two Slytherins in her year with the same last name and they weren’t related to her unless it was very distantly since Kellyn didn’t know them. Graas, what a familiar name. Ah. The girl was undoubtedly related to the boy model her friends were attracted to and crazy about. Yes, he was handsome, but looks didn’t count for everything. And there were four more siblings that Kellyn knew of vaguely through their reputations, if she wasn’t wrong. “Your brothers seem to be somewhat infamous amongst my friends,” Kellyn commented neutrally, a tinge of distaste edging her words. “I find it amusing that they’ve never spoken to any of your brothers and still adore them simply because they’re handsome.”

[Morgana Graas S2]

“Glamour charms. I’m impressed,” Morgana stated with slight surprise showing in both her voice and on her face. Glamour charms were quite complex. At least the higher versions were. Gabriel had taught her and Leandra some, seeing that he came into closest contact with the spells usually, and most were hard. Morgana usually preferred to handle things the old hands-on way, because other than the most simple ones she didn’t dare to test with the rest on her own just yet. “I’m sure you’re vicious. About at the same level as a little ball of barking fur gnawing at one’s ankle.” Morgana tilted her head. She didn’t exactly know what she thought about Hufflepuffs. She usually didn’t think about them. His brothers tended to brush past them as if they weren’t important, and it was rare for any of them to have a Hufflepuff date. Admittedly they never were in trouble, whether because no one thought they could do it or whether they just didn’t have guts to do anything. “Admittedly I don’t’ socialize nor know many Hufflepuffs. Or even more precisely, you’re pretty much the first Hufflepuff I’ve ever even talked to.”

Morgana laughed, even if she was sure to keep the bitterness she felt out of the sound. “I just need rescuing from myself. After that I can take on the world myself,” she commented sardonically, knowing herself how true it was. What sort of a future was she looking at, considering the werewolf blood in her? Being an aunt to a number of children, owning a restaurant, and living a secluded life dedicated to her work. She honestly couldn’t imagine anyone being able to look past her condition. Not that Morgana minded exactly. The changing hurt. Every month it hurt. But she was used to it and she had her family. And truth be told she was yet to meet some guy outside her father and brothers that would even be considered to be worth her time. But noticing that her mind had wandered her away, Morgana jerked herself back to the conversation at hand as Kellyn had continued speaking.

Just as she was afraid. They were talking about her brothers. Gabriel’s fame could be useful, when she wanted some designer clothes. But not in school. Morgana couldn’t switch on charm when it came to dealing with female professors. And there had been something in Kellyn’s words or tone or perhaps even in body-language – Morgana wasn’t entirely sure what – that put her on guard. “I’m sure your friends will be thrilled to know his angel-poster will be published on Sunday then. Whereas you might find it quite unappealing to look at a picture of a handsome and attractive boy as it seems. Do tell me… you enjoy the gardens evidently? So why is admiring a beautiful scenery any different from admiring a beautiful animal or, yes, even from looking at an attractive male? I do adore my brothers, even if not for the way they look, whereas are their appearances so offensive to you then?”

[Kellyn Ellison H3]

Kellyn smiled oddly at Morgana’s evident surprise. Glamour charms, as a rule, were hard to master and yet they had been among the first that her mother had taught to her. They probably weren’t the first spell that other children learnt but Kellyn hadn’t exactly had what you might call a typical childhood. Her mother had immediately started planning out Kellyn’s future in the modelling business when she had gained custody of her, she was quite sure. And glamour charms were essential for models, whether they were old or young. “Barking balls of fur can be vicious,” she commented mildly. “After all, ankles are an important body part and it tends to be painful to have something gnawing at any part of your body. You’re the first Slytherin I’ve ever actually talked to. Throwing a hex my way doesn’t tend to be classified as conversation, in my experience.”

“That’s why we have friends and family. When life feels hopeless and you need someone to rely on, your brothers and sister and parents will always be there, I’m sure. Life wouldn’t be any fun at all if we always had to struggle along by ourselves, even if there are some burdens that other people can’t share.” It was a surprisingly wise sentiment from someone as carefree and light-hearted as Kellyn tended to be but everyone had their wise moments every once in a while. And it wasn’t like she could be childlike all the time. She was growing up, with all the changes that such a thing entailed. She just hadn’t gotten around to showing everyone else that yet.

Kellyn’s eyes widened as Morgana started to speak again, waving her hands in horrified defensiveness. “No, no, that wasn’t what I meant at all,” she spluttered apologetically. After a deep breath, Kellyn started to explain again, hopefully coherently. “I didn’t mean to make you think that I was insulting your brother, because I honestly wasn’t. He is very handsome, I agree. But I don’t think it is right that my friends adore him simply because he’s attractive. Well, yes, that is a good quality to have but other things are needed to make a relationship. Like a good personality and a sense of humour. Not that I’m suggesting that your brother doesn’t have a sense of humour! I mean...oh, I give up.” Kellyn buried her head in her hands resignedly, an embarrassed flush covering her face. “I didn’t mean to babble incoherently. I apologise. Hopefully you vaguely understood my ramblings.”

[Morgana Graas S2]

“I can throw a hex or two, if it’ll make you feel better?” Morgana offered off-handedly, “I do doubt Hufflepuffs and Slytherins usually have enough things in common to find many topics to converse on. Slytherins value stealth, subtlety, taking what you deserve yourself. I doubt those entirely fit in the Hufflepuff concept for friendship and loyalty.” Not that Slytherins weren’t loyal. They were fiercely loyal to the point of killing for their friends if need be. It was rather how hard it was to befriend a Slytherin, naturally power hungry and paranoid, that made people think that no friendship could be found among these cold people. A friend couldn’t be better than you. Not worse than you. An equal partner of sorts in at least most aspects, it was a balanced partnership friendship.

“There can be others with similar burdans, if not a worse version of the same burden,” Morgana correct gently. Shapeshifting was far worse for dad. He also took mental pain in knowing she suffered the same pain and he couldn’t keep his clear mind. He wasn’t dangerous with the Wolfsbane potion… but he didn’t think as a human during a full moon night. Yes, dad certainly had the worse version of the burden. Morgana eyed the girl coldly as she started stumbling over her own words. But she seemed honestly distraught so Morgana nodded slowly as she thought over it. “I do believe I understood your point. You will be attracted by the character first, having a pretty face and a fit body to go with that will be a benefit that comes later,” laughing gently, Morgana tilted her head and smiled, “My brothers have a theory about that. A Graas loves once and loves for life. But until that one special girl comes along… why couldn’t they kill time with any pretty girl that happens to be around? None of them is looking for anything more than simply a bit of fun time currently, they just want to have fun.”

Morgana paused and mulled over what she wanted to say, to make sure it would come out correctly. “However, you contradict yourself and your friends. You presume that my family will stand by my side when I need them. Yet a few moments later you claim, that you do not think my brothers have the character to make any relationship work. You create images of people just the same, without knowing them. You presume they are shallow on their looks, yet believe automatically they show deep brotherly affection? How can you then condemn your friends enjoyment and belief that something good can come from mere physical attraction? Not that I don’t adore my brothers and they certainly love me to. And the same prejudice about my parents. How do you know they love and support me, instead of organizing a preplanned marriage that benefits the family, abuse me, lock me in my room, and exercise corporal punishment, whereas I doubt you’ve my parents.” Morgana paused as she looked at Kellyn, “Pardon me if I didn’t make much sense. But you create figurative images of people just as easily as your friends do, you just base yours on imagination rather than people’s looks.”

[Kellyn Ellison H3]

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” Kellyn assured the girl hastily. She had experienced her fair share of hexes and curses and they weren’t at all enjoyable. Though the tickling charm had left her giggling for a few hours afterwards since she rather suspected that hadn’t been the spell that particular girl had wanted to use. “Different people have different values, regardless of house. I’m a Hufflepuff because I’m primarily loyal and friendly but I also have ambition and hopefully somewhere I have the courage to help me see my dreams through to the end. And I do believe that if you deserve something you should take it. Not that I approve of stealing in any way unless something originally belonged to you and was stolen.”

This, Kellyn thought with no small amount of self-satisfaction, was exactly why she had admonished her friends for believing in the stereotypical images of people from other houses. No hexes, curses or jinxes had been thrown, she was in an almost friendly conversation and at no point so far had she feared for her life or dignity. Ah good, Kellyn sighed with relief. Morgana had understood what she had meant. “That’s an interesting view,” Kellyn commented nonchalantly. And one with a lot of merits, actually. In every person’s life there would be one special person and sometimes meeting that person took a while so why not enjoy yourself in the mean time? Wasn’t that exactly what she had been doing when she had accepted the offers of dates from boys that she knew weren’t likely to be around even a few months from then? While certainly not on the same scale, Kellyn wasn’t much different to Morgana’s brothers, or anyone else for that matter.

“I didn’t mean to say that your brothers weren’t capable of making a relationship work.” Kellyn protested weakly. “Oh Merlin, I’m just messing everything up today. Maybe I should just get you to hex my mouth shut after all.” After taking a few moments to sort her thoughts out again, Kellyn started to speak once more. “I believe that the way you’ve been brought up and treated during your childhood affects the way you are now. A perfect example of this is a girl I know. Her parents didn’t want her, hadn’t planned for her and felt that she was nothing but a nuisance. She was passed around from relative to relative and she grew up knowing that she was unwanted and unloved by anyone. That shows quite clearly in the way she acts and responds to people, just as the way you act and respond suggests that you had a vastly different life to her.” Kellyn smiled and shrugged, admitting her faults openly. “Perhaps I do create images of people in a similar way to my friends. But doesn’t everyone? You admitted that you doubted you had anything in common with Hufflepuffs but do you really know any?”

[Morgana Graas S2]

Morgana smiled lightly. Rather she didn’t hex? Either the girl had a very-very ironic mind and a sense of humour, or she merely hadn’t picked up on hers. Not that it wasn’t smart to reassure that Morgana wasn’t expected to hex. Who knew, she might have used that lack of saying it out to her advantage later on then perhaps.
“I’m in Slythering for being resourceful and cunning. I will not hesitate to bend the rules for my will, if it’ll serve my purpose,” Morgana told without any hesitation, “And of course I’m a pureblood. Pureblood, who can trace her lineage for centuries, so the Sorting Hat didn’t doubt when placing me.” Morgana peered at the girl, with an odd smile circling around her lips: “Not stolen. But perhaps unclaimed? Fame, money, fortune, power – taking the values unclaimed. It would hardly be wise to steal from me – from anyone in my family – and someone fool couldn’t handle that. I’m talking about taking what you deserve, in a possibly more abstract sense of the words.”

“My brothers are interesting people,” Morgana chuckled lightly as Kellyn talked herself into confusion yet again, “But I agree to leave them out of the conversation. It would just get messy otherwise. I am quite protective of them as well, so there’s hardly a need to create problems, that aren’t really necessary.” Morgana listened to the girl’s example as she peered off into the distant sky with a couple of clouds that looked as if they could hold rain approaching from there. For once it apparently seemed to be a friend talked of, not the girl herself, as she didn’t seem that cold and distant. She was talking to Morgana for heaven’s sake! Getting to talk to a Slytherin that easily took skill. “Perhaps. But even if that girl might be unwanted, that doesn’t mean she can’t make something out of her life. How about an other example. A boy. He saw the murder of her mother when he was 5, and then the aunt, who killed the woman, offered him tea pleasantly enough. He lost his father when he was 12 and since then had relatives fighting over custody rights in order to access the money he was to inherit.” Morgana paused as one of her lip-corners curved up slowly as she looked back at Kellyn to see that she was listening, “Hardly a situation nor responsibility you’d expect from a 12 year old, who turns cold and distant and distrusting. Yet, as a father - he has been fantastic, in making sure that all of us are always loved for, cared, and supported. The past you have doesn’t necessarily define what you’ll make your life into.”

“It’s a very common mistake. Creating stereotypes,” Morgana admitted. Beign a werewolf had gotten her over most of them. Don’t treat others in a way you don’t want to be treated, and all that. “Hufflepuffs? I’m mainly opinionless. It is possible that the difference comes from having different interests. Not all of the Hufflepuffs are purebloods and therefore don’t circle in the same society nor have the same interest in parties I attend, especially as my family is part of the social elite in France and Italy, not so much in England. We don’t meet in the library, as I use private books and libraries, or turn to my brothers for advice, we have different styles in clothing – as far as I’ve seen; nor do I feel the need of having friends approval or company for the bigger part of the time. I admit that there are classier ones I’d have something to learn from. Lacey Langres, as she has drawn my parents, aunt Dana, and most of us. But whereas I have never really known any Hufflepuffs, reason says that I will not have much common with the ones I have seen.”