Chapter One

The Diary of Morgana Malfoy

--

Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go
by any rules. They're not like aches or wounds;
they're more like splits in the skin that won't
heal because there's not enough material.

--

A/N: This takes place during the 5th book.

Harry climbed the staircase of Grimmauld Place, followed by his two best mates. Sirius suggested the trio battle their relentless boredom, whilst cooped up inside The House of Black, by rummaging through some of his old books. He remembered owning several pleasure reading books on Quidditch and fictional topics in his youth, but he could not guarantee the trio that they still remained in his childhood room. He half expected Regulus to have nicked them or his mother to have burned them not long after he left for good.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, apprehensively trailing behind the boys. "You're sure Sirius won't mind us looking around his bedroom?"

"Yeah, it's fine," said Harry in a despondent tone. "He said those books are probably still in his closet or somewhere." Harry felt haunted by unpleasant memories, most of which didn't even belong to him. The trio crept down the desolate hallways, cluttered with portraits of dead witches and wizards that Sirius grew-up despising.

The three friends stood before Sirius's bedroom door. Harry opened the door and stepped inside in front of Ron and Hermione. It looked utterly untouched since the last time Sirius lived, or existed rather, within it's walls. The same discolored banners hung lazily from the ceiling. The only change was the obvious increase of dust and grime coating every inch of the ancient bedroom. Harry's fingers traced Sirius's old motorcycle posters that had acted as wallpaper for so many years.

They started to walk about the room, looking about for leather-bound books. Harry heard a faint squeal from Ron as a decent sized spider fell from one of the countess cobwebs, decorating the four corners.

Hermione pulled open one of the rickety drawers from Sirius's armoire. A medium sized keepsake box took up the entire drawer. She abandoned her prior misgivings about a bit of rummaging through Sirius's things and opened the box to examine the contents inside; a pair of thick circular goggles, an old wooden club, and a black and white picture. It was of a young Sirius, James, Lily, and a rather good looking teenage witch with a long black ponytail that Harry didn't recognize. The mystery girl's Quidditch uniform was not that of Gryffindor like the other two boys, but he couldn't distinguish it without color. Only Lily wasn't dressed in their Quidditch robes while they waved happily up at him. Sirius and James were in the middle, Lily on James's arm and the mystery woman on Sirius's, the two boys had their other arms draped over each other's shoulders. Harry had never seen Sirius look so happy.

"You never told us Sirius played Quidditch," said Hermione. Harry walked over to Hermione's discovery.

"I-I didn't know," said Harry. He picked up the picture, blew off some of the filth, and polished the glossy photo with his shirt. Harry folded the picture in half and stuffed it in his back jean pocket. Sirius had never even mentioned playing the Wizarding sport before, not once. This wasn't something Harry thought Sirius would hesitate to discuss with him. It made Harry wonder what else Sirius had left out from his past.

Harry returned Sirius's other possessions into his forgotten keepsake box. The trio had found a couple pairs of dirty socks, a few posters of Muggle girls in bikinis, and a handful of motorcycle magazines from Sirius's youth before they discovered the small pile of books hidden upon the darkest corner of his closet.

Ron lifted Harry down off his shoulders. Harry stumbled off Ron's gangly shoulder blades and toppled clumsily backwards. A loud CRACK could be heard as Harry tumbled onto his backside. The termite ridden wooden floors gave way under his weight thus snapping the ancient floorboards beneath him.

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. She and Ron rushed to help him up from his splintered trap. They pulled him up to his feet by either arm. He groaned in slight pain.

"You alright, mate?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry. Hermione was no longer paying attention to the wellbeing of her dear friend. She was on all fours, digging into the hollow opening Harry's buttocks had so conveniently created. She pulled her leg up from under her and kicked away a bigger space with her foot.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," said Ron. "The place may be a pit, but-"

"Shut up, Ron," said Hermione. "There's something down here." She pulled out a couple ancient looking locked dark leather diaries bound together with a thick belt. Harry took the aging stack of diaries from Hermione, sitting on Sirius's mattress with it on his lap. Ron and Hermione followed suit.

"Diaries?" said Ron. "I never thought Sirius to be the diary-type." Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched the journals from Harry's hands, loosening the belt and separating the books.

"Let's have a look then," said Hermione. She used her thumb to clear away the thick grey dust that hid faded golden inscription engraved upon wrinkled leather cover. The name and the handwriting was not that of Sirius, "Morgana Malfoy."

Harry's ears perked up at Hermione's reading. Ron poked at the diary like it was some sort of treacherous monster.

"You don't think she's related to-," started Ron, scratching the back of his neck.

"I doubt there is another Malfoy family, Ronald," said Hermione. "It has to be those Malfoys."

"Then why would Sirius have something belonging to a Malfoy?" said Harry suspiciously, taking the diaries back from Hermione. "His only tie to them is the fact Narcissa is married to Lucius, and I've never even heard of a Morgana Malfoy."

"S-Should we just ask him?" asked Ron.

"Certainly not," said Hermione quickly. "We'll just put it back where I found it and pretend it doesn't even exist. I'm sure Sirius wouldn't appreciate us taking advantage of his trust that we wouldn't snoop through his things."

Ron and Harry peered over at each other out of the corner of their eyes. They shared weary expressions, obviously disagreeing with Hermione's suggestion to put the diaries away and forget about them. Harry had never really realized how little he knew about his godfather until he stepped into a virtual time capsule of his youth. He wondered if these diaries, this mysterious woman's diaries, could possibly give him a look into a part of Sirius's life that he hadn't known about before.

"Harry Potter," Hermione reprimanded, sending him a warning glare. "Give me the diary."

"No," said Harry, standing up off the bed and hiding them behind his back. "Just a look couldn't do any harm."

"Tell that to Ginny," retorted Hermione. "I'm sure she thought Tom Riddle's diary was harmless-"

"Oh, I'm sure Sirius is in possession of a possessed diary," said Ron sarcastically. "Come off it, Hermione. It's obvious they haven't been touched in decades; he won't even know they're gone."

"No-" started Hermione.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened to reveal a tired looking Lupin. Harry kept the diaries hidden behind his back while the trio scurried in front of the crevasse they had clumsily created in the floor, hoping Remus would overlook it. Lupin initially sported a friendly grin upon his entrance but his expression changed to that of suspicion at the sight of the trio's guilty faces.

"What's the matter?" asked Lupin, furrowing his brow.

"Nothing," they said hastily in unison.

"Well, Molly wanted you three to know dinner is ready," said Remus, still clearly unconvinced that they weren't up to something.

"We're not hungry," said Harry.

"Speak for yourself, mate-" started Ron before Harry elbowed him in the gut to silence him.

"Er-alright then," said Lupin, still eyeing them charily. "I'll tell Molly to save you plates for later."

Lupin nodded and slid back out the door, looking back once more. Harry hurried to pull over Sirius's stained wool rug over the wooden cavern. After making certain no one, especially Sirius, was roaming the hallways they darted into Ron and Harry's shared bedroom. Harry sat down upon his bed along side Ron; Hermione reluctantly followed in suit. She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at the idea of them reading someone's personal property.

"I guess the best way to do this is to start from the beginning," said Harry, trying to pull open the lock upon the first diary with no avail. Ron reached over to Hermione's curly bun and plucked a pin from her hair without asking permission. She shot him a nasty glare and grasped at her bun to fix it. Ron slid the pin into the diary's lock and meticulously maneuvered it about the bolt until he heard a distinct CLICK.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" asked Hermione, trying not to sound too impressed.

"You spend your whole life around Fred and George, and you're bound to pick up a few things," he shrugged, handing her the pin back.

"Lovely," she sighed, looking over at the journal curiously. "Well, get on with it then. The quicker you snoop the quicker we can put the diaries back and forget I ever found them."

"Yeah, whatever," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "What's it say, mate?"

"The earliest dated entry is June, 1970. That would be…just before Sirius's First Year," said Harry, reading the feminine handwriting in the top right hand corner.

Hermione looked awkwardly from Ron to Harry. No one knew what they were going to find out. They'd never heard of a Malfoy by the name Morgana, and they couldn't imagine why.

"What's it say, Harry?" said Ron. "Go on, and read it aloud." Ron squinted to make out the cursive script along the discolored pages. Harry immediately complied and began to read.

June 28th, 1970

I've hated Sirius Black since the moment I laid eyes on him, which wasn't even by choice. The Blacks and the Malfoys are two of the wealthiest, pure-blood aristocratic dynasties in the Wizarding world. Because of our parents' delusions that anyone who wasn't a pure-blood wizard didn't deserve to breathe the same oxygen as their children, Sirius and I were thrust into a faux kinship since birth to avoid bonding with any children who were of "dirty blood." We'd had the misfortune of being required to experience every childhood milestone together since our first birthdays. We had been raised in virtually identical environments, yet the only thing Sirius and I had ever had in common was our distaste for our own birthrights. He hated me, and I hated him. That was how things had always been, and that was how things would always be...

Out of thin air, the trio was sucked forward into the pages of the diary of the unknown witch. They landed harshly upon the ground. Hermione and Ron stumbled a bit at first, clearly not as used to such abrupt travel as Harry. They were standing under an enormous willow tree beside a large loc a few yards before it. A handsome manor house surrounded by elaborate gardens, including a fountain and roving white peacocks stood in the background. The picturesque grounds were enclosed by wrought-iron gates to permit only select individuals to pass through them as if they were smoke. Harry looked around frantically for his Mum and Dad, hoping they were included in the diary. They were no where in sight, making it obvious the memories were still under the writer's control. Who exactly that was still remained a mystery. Harry felt Hermione's reassuring hand on his shoulder as she shook her head, clearly Hermione had realized exactly what he had just concluded.

A little girl sat casually under the lazy arms of the willow, her nose in a book too thick for a child her age. The young witch's black hair was in two long pigtails, tied with forest green ribbons that matched her jumper. Her thick wavy locks mimicked the color of a raven, giving the illusion of a navy blue reflection as the light graced her midnight tresses. She certainly didn't fit the profile of a typical Malfoy, besides her eyes that is. Yes, her grey eyes were shared by all the Malfoys. She had escaped the slick blonde hair but those eyes were impossible to mistake.

"Harry, I think that's the girl from the picture," said Hermione. "It has to be her as a child."

"Yeah, that's definitely her," declared Harry. "But why would Sirius-"

Suddenly, a young boy sprung down from the tree out of nowhere to land before the little girl. He held his hands beside his temples, creating moose ears and puffing his cheeks out whilst making a shocking noise. The trio jumped back, visibly startled, but the raven haired witch didn't even blink. She just continued to read her book as if he didn't exist. Harry knew in an instant exactly who the immature young wizard was; Sirius Black. Even at eleven years old it was obvious that Sirius had the beginnings of handsome features. His dark hair hung carelessly before his eyes while his cheekbones could be spotted a mile away.

A throaty female voice began to ring out above the trio, reading the diary's secrets aloud.

"Your parents owe the world a retraction," I sighed, determined not to make eye contact with him. Sirius, unfazed, merely planted himself down beside me, plucking my book from my grip. He looked at it as if it were some sort of mysterious entity that he had never seen before. He turned it to the side and upside down in his hands, examining it curiously. I released a groaned and snatched it back from him, returning to my page.

He pulled out a shiny red apple from his jacket pocket and took a noisy bite. He sported his customary irritating cocky grin and looked over my shoulder. I knew he and his mother were coming over for tea in the afternoon, and I thought that hiding behind the gardens in the backyard could elude Sirius from bothering me. I was wrong, again.

"You know, Morgana," he smiled. "You can spend your whole life with your nose buried in a load of books, but brains aren't everything. In fact, in your case they're nothing."

"Clever, Sirius," I said, rolling my eyes. "And you wonder why I get a fierce desire to be lonesome whenever you're around. You are just such a delight to be around."

"I know," he smirked, wallowing in my insults. "It must be because I don't have fur or feathers. I overheard your mum telling my Mum she caught you chatting with your peacocks again-"

"Humanity is overrated," I snapped, trying desperately to concentrate on my book. "You're proof of that."

"You don't have to be so testy, Morgana," Sirius smiled, twirling a dark stand from my pigtails. "I'm only trying to help. I mean, you don't want people thinking you're a nutter…well, more of a nutter-"

"What exactly is it that you want, Black," I sneered, slamming my book shut upon my lap and pulling my hair away from his grasp. "Besides to just bother me." Sirius grinned triumphantly at my heated reaction. I cursed myself for allowing him to have any effect on me. I'd been trying to ignore him since we were five, and I thought I'd managed to prevail against his provocation. He always seemed to enjoy my clear irritation at his remarks.

"Ah, now I remember why I came out here," he teased, pulling an envelope from his pocket. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Probably because you have the attention span of a lightening bolt," I spat, reaching for the letter with no avail. Sirius pulled it back and hid it behind his back. I shot him a nasty glare and sat up on my knees to try to snatch it from him again.

"Give it here," I demanded.

"You don't even know what it is," he tormented.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Let's think," said Sirius, smiling arrogantly. "What sort of parcel do young witches and wizards receive around their eleventh birthdays-"

"My Hogwarts letter?" I breathed.

"Oh, that must be why your mum made me run out straight away to deliver it to you," said Sirius. "Maybe you should be a bit courteous-"

"I'm giving you two options," I threatened. "Either you give me the letter and live to see another day, or you can keep being a royal arse and I make Regulus an only child. The choice is yours."

Not allowing him time to give which would undoubtedly be another smartass response, I propelled myself forward, knocking him onto his back. I wrestled the folded envelope from his grasp and tore it open. I pushed myself back into a proper sitting position, leaving Sirius stunned on the grass. I'd been anxiously awaiting my letter since Sirius had received his three weeks prior and decided to tease me relentlessly that I wouldn't be receiving a letter because my magical abilities were no more able than that of a squib. I knew he was full of dung, but after two weeks with no postage I started to get a bit uneasy.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Miss Morgana Oleanne Malfoy
Malfoy Manor
7 Commodore Lane
Wiltshire, England

Dear Miss Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

Uniform

First year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Set Books

All students should have a copy of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment:

1 wand

1 cauldron

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl, cat or toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"I was hoping you'd go to Durmstrang," said Sirius, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I was hoping you'd go jump off a cliff," I smirked, rereading my letter excitedly. "But I guess we can't get everything we want."

Sirius sat up completely, looking over my shoulder to read over my shoulder. I shot him a dirty look and pulled away so he couldn't see the letter. He rolled his eyes and fell back on his elbows again to pout like the spoiled little brat he was.

"Well, Svetlana went to school there, didn't she?" he said, shoving his shaggy hair from his eyes. "And I thought you got their acceptance letter weeks ago."

"Yes, Sirius, my Mum went to Durmstrang," I sighed, folding the letter back into the envelope. "But my Father went to Hogwarts, so I have the ability to choose where I receive my education."

"I would choose Durmstrang if I were you," said Sirius, smiling arrogantly. "You'll just embarrass yourself when you're sorted into Hufflepuff-"

"I most certainly will not!" I flouted defiantly. "The second the Sorting Hat is placed on your thick skull it'll declare you, "Too stupid to sort.""

"Well, I bet it won't even fit on your big fat head," said Sirius, clambering to his feet the same as me.

We were eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose. I battled the urge to deck him square in the jaw. Everything about him infuriated me; his deliberately untidy hair, his egotistical persona, and his cosseted lifestyle that made mine seem austere. I knew he hated me just as much, if not more as I hated him. He constantly ridiculed me for my attempts to make him feel inferior to me, which wasn't intentional because it's simply a reality. We'd been at each other's throats since we toddlers, and our repugnant feelings for each other hadn't changed in nearly a decade.

"You think you are just so much better than me, don't you?"

"No, I don't think I'm better than you," I retorted. "I know I'm better than you!"

I grabbed my book off the ground and swiftly took off towards the house, anxious to lock myself in my room away from Sirius. His hands became balled into fists as his face turned a deep shade of red. His entire body was completely rigid as he looked after me with great rage. I stared straight ahead, determined not to give him a second glance.

"You're an anti-social trollop!"

"I'm not anti-social," I shouted, my eyes still glued upon the backdoor. "I just can't stand you!"

--

I must have slammed the door a bit harder than I intended because I hadn't taken more than half a dozen steps inside before my Mum strode into the study after me. Her black hair was pinned up tightly in a bun, strands of grey becoming more and more noticeable after each passing month. Her pale skin clung to her cheekbones, giving her face the appearance of being quite skeleton-like. Her constant expression screamed uppity and malevolent. A corset never left her slender waist while gloomy colored fabric adamantly decorated her stern figure. Though her hostile exterior eluded from her natural beauty, it was undeniable that she was still a magnificent looking woman. Her thin lips were pursed as she advanced towards me.

She grabbed my upper arm so hard that I instantly knew I would have a five finger bruise the following day. She jerked me fiercely to face her, her boney fingers tightening around my arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered fiercely in her thick Bulgarian accent.

"Going up to my room," I replied, tugging my arm from her grasp.

"Are you incapable of doing so without making such a commotion?"

"I don't know, let's find out," I retorted rudely, turning to walk towards the marble staircase.

My Mum wrapped her hand around my wrist and pulled me back to face her again, her eyes dancing with rage. She opened her mouth to scold me, but was thankfully interrupted by a voice calling from the parlor. It was Sirius's bint of a mother, Walburga Black.

"Oh, Svetlana dear, did you tell Morgana the good news?"

"I was just about to, Walburga," my Mum called back in a voice so sweet it made me ill.

"Good news?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and popping out hip.

"Yes," my Mum said reluctantly. "Walburga and I scheduled a shopping trip next week to buy your school goods with you, your brother and Sirius."

"I suppose this little endeavor is mandatory?" I frowned, rolling my eyes defiantly.

"Yes, of course," she hissed.

That was the very last thing I wanted to hear at that moment. I would sooner die than spend an entire day with Sirius and his awful mother. Without another word, I dodged my Mother and darted up the steps to my bedroom. I could still hear my Mum's faux amiable tone calling back to Walburga.

"Oh, she is utterly thrilled," she lied through her unnaturally white teeth, returning to her seat beside her best friend.

--

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this so far. I've put a lot of work into it, and I hope it will show. I think my plot will end up being really well developed in a few chapters if you give it a chance! Please, review! I would so appreciate it!

Coming Soon: Sirius and Morgana visit Diagon Alley/Knockturn Alley, Morgana finds a couple new friends, Sirius meets a messy haired young boy, and Morgana receives a wand unlike any other.

--

Review.