Star Sisters

Chapter XXXII: Friends Are Like Stars

‘Hm, I was hoping my last meal would not be made up of lamb chops and potatoes. What a shame that there won’t be a spring ball. I had such a nice menu planned.’

Snape frowned and looked up from his plate to find Dumbledore smiling serenely. ‘Your last meal, Headmaster? Are you not being a little overdramatic?’

‘My last dinner at Hogwarts, that is,’ Dumbledore clarified. ‘The inspection is over, the governors have departed... I expect very much to be removed from my post before midnight.’

‘I doubt the governors have found fault...’

‘Dear Severus,’ Dumbledore interrupted. ‘As I have already mentioned, the inspection was merely pro forma. I would be removed even if the castle had been spotlessly clean and every single student had achieved nothing else but O’s. But do not fret. The school will be in good hands.’

He raised his goblet and toasted towards Dolores Umbridge with a stunning smile. Umbridge gave a little hem-hem and toasted back, never noticing that the Headmaster had not only raised his goblet but also cast a silencing spell around him and his Potions master.

‘Upon my departure, my office will seal itself. No one will be able to open the door. No one except you, Severus. In case you need to contact me but are unable to leave the castle, use my fireplace.’

Snape nodded. They had been through the plan already. He knew his task.

‘Keep an eye on the children, will you, Severus,’ Dumbledore beseeched Snape once more.

‘I can only do that much, Headmaster,’ Snape growled. ‘The boy ...’

‘I will talk to Harry once more, Severus. I will tell him to listen to you, to do anything you tell him and practice his Occlumency.’

As if that would help, Snape thought with a sneer. The boy carried his emotions on his sleeve and was practically incapable of closing his mind.

‘As for Morgana...’ Dumbledore put down his fork and looked towards the Slytherin table, where her usual spot was empty. ‘She was not at lunch either,’ he pointed out. ‘And Poppy tells me that she is not in the hospital wing.’

‘Miss Belakane is in her dormitory,’ Snape replied calmly. ‘She has been there all day.’

‘I heard she attended Potions this morning.’

‘Yes, she did. And she left early.’ Snape stated. Surely, Dumbledore could not hold HIM responsible for Morgana hiding in her dorm. ‘I think Miss Belakane took on more than she could manage,’ he went on. ‘She should have stayed in bed today in order to rest. Hopefully, she came to the same conclusion during Potions.’

‘You think Morgana is... resting, then?’

Dumbledore looked at his Potions master over his half-moon spectacles, and Snape scowled back. Trust the old man to try and give him a bad conscience. He had instructed an elf to keep an eye on the girl. Merlin, he had even spoken to Charis. What more could he do?

‘Maybe Morgana being on her own is not the best solution,’ Dumbledore continued.

‘Miss Belakane cannot be blamed for wanting to be alone at the moment,’ Snape stated. At times, choosing to be on one’s own was the only way to keep sane. He of all people knew that. At times, he was so disgusted with himself that he could not stand being close to any other human being lest he poison them with his self-hatred. Judging from Morgana’s reaction towards her friend’s approach in Potions, she might be thinking along those lines today as well.

‘What we want is not always what is good for us, Severus.’ Dumbledore was still peering at Snape over his glasses, and his blue eyes were twinkling in a way that suggested Snape needed to do something about the situation.

Snape was on the verge of ripping his napkin apart on his lap. ‘What do you suggest I do?’ he snapped. ‘Physically drag Miss Belakane down here to dinner?’

‘Only if everything else fails, Severus. But I doubt physical violence will be necessary,’ he added lightly.

Snape threw his napkin on the table. ‘You want me to go and get her then? Right now?’

‘The girl needs to eat.’ Dumbledore looked innocent as a fawn. ‘And who else other than you would she listen to, Severus?’

The line between Snape’s eyes became deeper and deeper. He had no idea how he could persuade Morgana to come to the Great Hall for dinner. Actually, he had no idea what to say to her at all. Still, he got up from his chair.

‘I will do what I can, Headmaster,’ he announced. ‘But if Miss Belakane prefers to stay in her dormitory, I refuse to humiliate her by forcibly making her.’

‘I think if you ask her nicely, Morgana will not turn you down, Severus.’

‘For the very last time, Dumbledore,’ Snape growled. ‘Nice is not part of my vocabulary.’

And with that, he stomped out of the Great Hall, clenching his fists under his robes and fighting the urge to close Dumbledore’s twinkly eyes for good.

* * *
The Slytherin common room was abandoned when Snape arrived. Naturally; all the students were at dinner. All but one.

It didn’t take Snape more than a flick of his wand and a murmured password to lift the wards that kept any male from entering the girls’ dormitory. He was, after all, the Head of Slytherin House. Still, he froze in front of the heavy oak door. The last time he had stormed through that door, he had found Morgana bleeding in the bathroom with her wrists cut open. Snape resolutely shook his head and knocked. Certainly, the elf he had instructed to look after the girl would have informed him if Morgana were about to do anything stupid.

At first, there was no answer, and Snape flinched slightly. Surely, the girl wouldn’t have...? Then he scowled. He knew that she had been hiding in her dormitory all day. The elf had informed him that Morgana had even cast a charm around her bed that prevented her roommates from seeing her. Yes, hiding was exactly the word to describe what Morgana was doing.

He knocked again, harder this time. Again, he received no answer. Did the girl think he was daft? But then again, how could she know that it was him?

‘Miss Belakane, open the door.’

Still no reaction.

‘Miss Belakane! Right. Now.’

Snape was just about to draw his wand in order to open the door by magic when a soft clicking told him that the door was being unlocked. A moment later, it was opened.

‘Sorry, sir,’ the girl muttered. ‘Pansy has been knocking on the door all afternoon.’

Snape raised an eyebrow. ‘Miss Parkinson?’ It seemed unlikely that Pansy Parkinson would be the kind of person to even notice when one of her House mates isolated herself.

‘On Draco’s orders,’ Morgana explained. ‘Seems like he has something he wants to tell me.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Like I’d give a damn what the little ferret has to say.’

Snape did not even react to Morgana’s rude language. She was projecting a hard shell, but he knew that she was not half as tough on the inside. He had seen her break last night, and he had seen her red-rimmed eyes earlier. But he would let her believe that he was buying her act for a little while longer. His eyes travelled over the girl. Yes, even her clothes were a part of her armour: dark green trousers instead of the skirt that was standard girls’ uniform, and a black sweater with a hood that covered not only her red hair but also obscured half of her face.

‘Care to explain why you are not at dinner, Miss Belakane?’ Snape started. He was still standing outside the door. The girl had not asked him to come inside.

‘I am not hungry,’ Morgana simply replied.

Snape’s eyes darted toward the desk he knew was Morgana’s. He spotted a plate of lamb chops, potatoes and some vegetables. Obviously, one of the elves had been taking good care of the girl. Unfortunately, the food seemed to be untouched.

‘You have not been to any lessons today either,’ he stated in a neutral tone.

‘I ...’ Morgana paused. ‘I wasn’t feeling well.’

‘I do not recall asking to hear your excuse, Miss Belakane.’

Snape saw the girl’s shoulders slump and took it as his cue to enter the dormitory. She was obviously about to give in. He closed the door firmly behind him and warded it. An uninvited visitor was the last thing either he or Morgana needed.

‘Have a seat, Miss Belakane.’

Morgana moved reluctantly towards her bed. When she had realised that it was her Head of House who had been knocking at her door, the first thing she had done was cast a spell on her bed. He didn’t need to see that she had been lying there all day, contemplating where she had gone wrong, when she had messed up. Gingerly she sat down, her hands folded in her lap and her eyes resolutely on her thumbs.

‘You say that you are not feeling well,’ Snape began. He had only taken a few steps into the room and was standing there now, several feet away from the girl, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘Have you seen the nurse today?’

Morgana shook her head.

‘And why not, Miss Belakane?’

‘Because there is nothing Poppy can do.’

‘I assume your ails are not of a physical nature then,’ Snape concluded, and Morgana shook her head, her eyes still on her hands.

‘I thought as much.’ Snape decided to step closer, carefully monitoring the girl. She did not flinch away as he approached, which he took as a good sign. But she did not look at him, and that disturbed him deeply. She had trusted him last night. What had happened? Her mental shields were up, but they were so weak that Snape did not even need to use Legilimency to sense her pain and sorrow and, most of all, her fear.

‘Hiding away from the world will not do you any good, Morgana.’ He saw her wince as he said her name, and he hesitated for a second. Maybe, throwing the truth at her like this was not the most pedagogical approach. But Snape knew how much damage hiding away could do. He would not let it happen to the girl. ‘You have a choice,’ he went on. ‘You can choose to be a victim, to hide away and let your demons tear at your soul. Or you can choose NOT to be a victim, to acknowledge the pain and tread on it before it treads on you, to face people head-on and be proud of who you are and everything you have been through.’

‘I am unable to make this choice,’ Morgana replied. She had meant to say this out loud, but was now afraid that she would start to cry if she did anything else than whisper. ‘I can’t,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I simply can’t.’

‘Can’t?’ Snape snorted. ‘The cockiest witch in the castle tells me she can’t. The witch who seven months ago was convinced that she could conquer both her Potions master and Lucius Malfoy.’

Morgana was now feverishly trying to hold back her tears and keep her voice from shaking. ‘That witch is gone,’ she stated slowly and sadly. ‘She bit off more than she could chew and choked on it.’

‘Are you seriously telling me you will let Malfoy win?’ Snape realised that he was yelling, but he did not know why he was angry. He was most certainly not angry at the girl. She had done nothing wrong. Her only mistake had been that she had started to develop feelings. ‘Has Lucius Malfoy not taken enough from you already?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice low. ‘Do not let him rob of your personality as well as your dignity, Morgana. Prevent him from doing you any more damage.’

He stepped closer to the girl now, sat down beside her on the bed. And had she not clenched her hands into fists, and had he not been afraid that she would flinch away, he would have taken her hands into his. But instead, he kept his distance and tried to catch her eyes.

‘Morgana, look at me,’ he demanded. ‘Do not feel shame. Do not blame yourself. Let yourself grieve. For yourself, for Lucius, for your baby. Let your grief out so that it does not fester and damage you further.’ He knew only too well what he was talking about. His grief had festered in him for so many years, and he sometimes feared that his soul was beyond repair. For the girl, there was hope still. ‘Let your grief out, Morgana,’ he repeated. ‘Or it will consume you.’

It started with a small sob that escaped her lips and made Morgana’s hand fly up to her mouth to stop the unbidden sound. She did not want to cry. Not in front of the man who over and over had told her to control her emotions. But now he was telling her differently and more or less urging her to give in to her emotions.

He was sitting there right beside her now, like a dark angel that was watching over her, and her nose filled with his well-known and comforting smell: sandalwood, musk, dark chocolate and a hint of peppermint. And the closer he came, both physically and mentally, the faster her armour crumbled. It was no use to resist anymore. The tears were already running down her face, and Morgana did not stop them. She did not even try to hide them. Nor did she try to stifle her sobs.

Snape was slightly taken aback. He had told the girl to give in to her grief, had expected her to cry, but still he had not been ready for the desperation he could hear in her sobs. How much had this girl suffered, he wondered, not just over the last twenty-four hours, but ever since Dumbledore had asked her to do the unspeakable, ever since she had started to fall for the charms of Lucius Malfoy. How much had Lucius hurt her last night?

Silently, Snape raised his arm, hoping the girl would accept his gesture of comfort. It was all he had to offer. If she turned away, he would not know what more to do. When Morgana buried her face at his chest, he drew the hood from her head and gingerly caressed her red hair. It was soft and silken. And Snape could not help but wonder how it would look if she wore it long.

‘I am so sorry,’ Morgana brought forth between sobs. ‘I messed up everything. Lucius ...’

‘None of this is your fault, Morgana,’ Snape could not keep himself from growling. ‘Especially not what happened with Lucius.’

‘I should have tried harder.’ The girl’s words were almost unintelligible, as her voice was muffled by the fabric of Snape’s robes and distorted by her sobs. ‘I should have resisted. I should not have fallen for him.’

‘Maybe you had no choice in the matter,’ Snape said softly. ‘Even Slytherins are not impervious to love.’

‘It’s not worth the pain.’

Snape winced slightly at the bitterness in the girl’s voice. She was too young to give up on love. She must believe that there was hope. Once more, he let his fingers trail through her red hair. ‘Love...’ he murmured. ‘It is the only thing worth staying alive for.’

A new wave of sobs hit the girl, and Snape silently folded his arms around her shoulder and let her cry. For herself, for her child, for the love she had lost. And, hopefully, even a little bit for him.

* * *
‘Now, will you attend breakfast in the Great Hall tomorrow?’ Snape asked expectantly once Morgana had calmed down. He had offered her his handkerchief, and she was now drying her tears.

Morgana shook her head in response.

‘Your absence at dinner has been noticed,’ Snape continued calmly. ‘By the members of your House, the Headmaster... but first and foremost, by Miss Byrne.’

Morgana froze. ‘They might have noticed, but I doubt that they miss me.’

‘That is where you are wrong, Morgana.’ Snape was still using the girl’s first name. After what they had been through together over the last twenty-four hours, it seemed ridiculous to call her Miss Belakane. Besides, he had a feeling the she would listen more attentively if he used that familiar address.

‘I do not deserve to be missed,’ Morgana stated in a bitter tone.

‘And why is that, Morgana?’ Of course, Snape knew what was going on in the girl’s mind. He had had the same thoughts far too many times. But he could not hand Morgana the solution to her problems on a silver platter. She needed to figure it out herself.

‘I have... not been nice to Charis,’ Morgana started, and Snape nodded.

‘No, you have not. I heard you snap at your friend earlier.’

Once more, Morgana lowered her head. Snape had no idea. He had no idea how angry she had been with Charis because she had slept with him. It seemed so petty now, ridiculous to say the least. But Morgana was too proud to apologise, too scared that Charis would not listen.

‘I am more than aware how easy it is to push away the very people we need the most, Morgana.’

Snape’s voice was soft, almost compassionate, and Morgana looked up at her Head of House, taking in every word as if they were drops of rain and she the dry ground at the end of summer.

‘As a fellow Slytherin, I understand that you are hiding away in order not to get hurt any more than you have already been hurt. I understand that you hiss and spit to defend yourself. And I know that you mean no harm,’ Snape went on. ‘Miss Byrne, however, is a Ravenclaw. She sees the rattlesnake that is rattling its tail, the cobra that is flattening its neck. As much as she cares, your attitude scares her and upsets her, and she does not know how to approach you. You need to meet her half-way, Morgana.’

The pride of a Slytherin, he thought as he looked at the girl. The odds for her actually going to Ravenclaw Tower were so minuscule that the chances of Neville Longbottom acing his next Potions test were better. And for the time being, Snape had no idea about how to reunite the Star Sisters. All he knew was that they needed each other.

A loud crack announced the arrival of an elf, and Morgana flinched. For a second, she had mistaken Winky for Silvy, Lucius’ elf.

‘Winky brings a package for Miss Morgana,’ the elf squeaked.

Morgana’s eyes darted from the elf to Snape and back to the elf. A package? She was taken aback. Who would send her a package? The only packages she had ever received had been from Lucius. And they had contained nothing but heartache.

‘I doubt it will bite,’ Snape stated dryly.

With shaking hands, Morgana took the small package from the elf, which disappeared moments later. For a while, she just stared at it, seeming at a loss about what to do with it.

‘Open it,’ Snape instructed finally, and when Morgana pulled her necklace out of the little box, he smiled. He had recognised the little silver star at once. He had, after all, been wearing it for a couple of days.

‘You have more people on your side that you realise, Morgana,’ he said quietly and then rose to leave the dormitory. He had done all in his power. The next step, the girl would have to take on her own.

Silently, he closed the door behind him. He never saw the tears that welled up in Morgana’s eyes as she read the message from Charis, her best friend, her Star Sister:

Good friends are like stars. You don’t always see them, but you always know that they’re there.

* * *
Once more, Charis was lying on her bed with a book open, her little white kitten curled up and purring contentedly beside her. She had been down to the common room for a while, but had been unable to stand all the chatter and laughter. Not even Jack had been able to distract her. Hence, she had returned to her dorm and had grabbed the first best book on her shelf.

But she could not concentrate on reading, of course. She looked at the book but did not take the words in. She had far too many thoughts buzzing around to be able to read. Every so often she would glance up at her alarm clock, wondering if Morgana had received her gift yet, toying absently with her own necklace. She had dispatched Winky well over an hour ago, and yet she had not received any message from Morgana. At least, she could have sent back the elf with a thank you, Charis thought. But then an awful feeling crept into her stomach. Maybe the gift had not been well received? Maybe it had angered Morgana? Or even worse, maybe she was indifferent and had thrown it away?

Charis chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. She had been brave and offered an olive branch. She had gripped hold of the snake, just as Snape had instructed her to. If Morgana pushed her away once again, not only would Charis feel stupid and hurt, but it would be the end of their friendship once and for all. There would be nothing more Charis could do to show her support for her friend.

Once more, she glanced at her alarm clock. One and a half hours since Winky had brought the necklace to the Slytherin dormitory and still no sign from Morgana. Charis sighed. That lack of response could only be interpreted in one way: rejection.

She could feel the tears beginning to well up at this thought. Was she really such a bad friend? Maybe she had not been loyal or supportive enough. Maybe it really was too dangerous for Morgana to be seen with a Mudblood in these troubled times.

Charis swallowed hard, toying with her necklace once again. And as she looked down at it, she noticed it had begun to glow a very, very faint green. Charis was so surprised that she shifted position on the bed, which disturbed her sleeping kitten, who voiced her protest with a little mew. Charis had no time to comfort her disgruntled cat however, as all her attentions were on her necklace. As she watched, it glowed steadily brighter, and her heart swelled. Morgana had accepted the gift after all, and with it, she had accepted Charis’ friendship.

With a flash of excitement, Charis raced off the bed and out of the dorm, leaving her confused, sleepy kitten mewing after her. She knew exactly where she was headed to find Morgana – to the spot they usually went to discuss matters away from prying ears, to the place they had haunted since their very first year: the top of the Astronomy Tower.

She raced down the corridors and up the stairs, not caring who she bumped in to, and not even caring if she happened to bump into a teacher, who would then inevitably deduct House points for her negligence. They could deduct them all and leave Ravenclaw’s hourglass void of sapphires for all Charis cared. She needed to get to her friend as soon as possible.

Another minute and she was soon climbing the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, her necklace glowing ever brighter, telling her she was indeed growing ever closer to her estranged friend. As she rounded the corner, however, she was not at all prepared for what she was about to see.

Morgana was sat huddled in a corner, shaking and crying, clutching in her hand the silver snake pendant that Lucius Malfoy had given her. She did not seem to have heard Charis’ arrival at the top of the tower and Charis ran to her friend straight away and folded her arms around the distraught girl.

‘Morgana,’ she whispered, cradling her head against her own.

Morgana did not even fight the gesture, but instead turned towards her friend and threw her arms around her. She was so choked she could not even speak. Not that she had any words to express how immensely grateful she was that Charis was there, that she had not turned away from her. If Charis had not answered her call, if she had not followed the charm of the necklace, Morgana did not know what she would have done. She felt so alone, so desperate. And for some horrible moments that evening, she had seriously considered putting an end to it all.

But Charis had come. Her best friend had hurried to her side when she had called for her, despite all the terrible things she had said and done, and Morgana was so thankful, so endlessly relieved. And for the second time that evening, she let her tears run down her pale cheeks, burying her face in Charis’ robes, letting herself be soothed by her best friend.

Charis merely stroked Morgana’s hair and made gentle shushing noises, allowing her friend to let out all her pent-up grief and frustration. It pained her to see Morgana in that much distress, the tough Slytherin who had always seemed to be able to hide any kind of emotions that could be compromising in any way.

‘The baby...’ Morgana started once she managed to draw breath.

‘I’m sorry,’ Charis murmured, still holding her friend. She knew Morgana had lost her baby and needed the time to grieve, and she rocked her gently as new sobs shook her body.

‘No... You don’t understand...’ Morgana shifted position to look at her friend. Her eyes were puffy and red, and Charis saw that she looked distraught. ‘It’s my fault. All my fault...’

‘Morgana.’ Charis looked at her friend with compassion and lifted a hand to her face. ‘How can you say that, sweetie?’

‘The baby. It wasn’t supposed to be born. It was Lu... Lu... Lucius...’ Morgana burst into tears again, and all Charis could do was pull her ever closer. She had never seen her friend in such a state before. Of course, they had cried together, but Morgana was currently borderline hysterical. How could she think that losing the baby was in any way her fault? And what did she mean when she said that the baby was not supposed to be born? Once again, Charis stroked her hair and made soft, reassuring shushing noises.

After a minute or so, Morgana sat up and wiped her eyes on the sleeves of her robes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She had to pull herself together. What would Charis think of her if she sat there crying like a Hufflepuff?

‘What happened to the baby?’ Charis asked gently, squeezing Morgana’s hand.

Morgana took another shaky breath and closed her eyes. ‘The baby was never supposed to be born,’ she started carefully. ‘Lucius wanted to give the baby as a present to Voldemort. A child of two old bloodlines, a child worthy to be Voldemort’s heir.’ Once she had started talking, the words just tumbled over her lips, and she could not stop. It felt so good to finally tell someone, to tell her best friend whom she should have told from the beginning. And she did not care if she were allowed to tell her now or not. She had messed up the plan already anyway.

Charis looked horrified. ‘The heir of Voldemort?’

Morgana nodded. ‘That’s why Lucius was so intent on seducing me. It wasn’t me he wanted, it was my bloodline.’ She gripped on to the necklace that Lucius had sent her even tighter as she said this, and Charis realised that her friend had indeed developed feelings for the cruel wizard. Suddenly, Morgana’s comment about the baby being almost royalty started to make sense.

‘But Dumbledore knew about Lucius’ plans,’ Morgana went on. ‘He asked me to conceive the heir and carry it for three months, after which time I would take a potion to abort it.’

‘He asked you to do what? Dumbledore knew what Lucius was planning and asked you to play along?’ Charis couldn’t believe it. How could Dumbledore, that wise, benign wizard, ask such a terrible thing from Morgana?

Morgana fiddled absently with the necklace in her hand. ‘Dumbledore said that I would be in more danger if I put up resistance against Lucius. By letting him think I was playing along with his plan, I would be safer.’ She let out a little strangled noise at this, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. ‘The Order needed more time to prepare against Voldemort. Whilst I was pregnant and in the castle, Hogwarts would be safe from attack.’

Charis shook her head with disbelief, her initial shock turning into anger. To her, Morgana had been betrayed twice over – firstly by Malfoy, and then by Dumbledore. Dumbledore was supposed to on the side of the light! But he had used Morgana as a pawn in the war effort. It was despicable! Then she thought of Lucius’ swift and unexplained departure from the inspections today. Did that have something to do with the baby?

‘Does Malfoy know that the baby is... gone?’ she asked tentatively.

Morgana shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the snake pendant in her hand. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered quietly. ‘Lucius was angry with me last night. He...’ She broke off as the tears once more rolled down her cheeks. Lucius could not have meant to hurt her. He couldn’t have. He had said that he loved her.

Charis frowned. As far as she could recall, Malfoy had looked anything but angry with Morgana in the Great Hall. He had smiled so indulgently at her. ‘What happened?’ she asked cautiously.

‘Snape was showing me how to brew Ceramite when Lucius came to the dungeons. He was touching me and kissing me, and I told him to stop. I did not want Snape to see. Not again.’

‘Again? What do you mean, not again?’

‘Dumbledore made Snape play the middleman all the time,’ Morgana explained. ‘How would it have looked if he had just let me go to Malfoy Manor on my own? I needed a chaperone.’

A chaperone? Charis had to bite her tongue to keep herself from snorting. Dumbledore had agreed to Morgana being knocked up by Malfoy, and still he had bothered to send along Snape as a chaperone? Dumbledore could not be that hypocritical. ‘Maybe Snape was there to protect you?’ Charis wondered. ‘To make sure that Malfoy would not hurt you in any way?’

‘Lucius NEVER meant to hurt me!’ Morgana clutched her hands over her mouth. She had not meant to flare up like this. ‘Lucius never meant to hurt me,’ she repeated, her voice now not more than a whisper. ‘It’s all my fault. All my fault.’

‘What is your fault, Morgana?’ Charis’ stomach knotted with a sense of dread. Something seemed to have happened to her friend. Something truly horrific.

Morgana closed her fingers so hard around the pendant in her hand that it hurt. ‘I should never have fallen in love,’ she whispered. ‘I should never have started to care.’

‘Oh, sweetie,’ Charis murmured, squeezing Morgana’s hand. ‘How could you not have cared? How could you not have fallen in love? Malfoy is charming, he was nice to you. Not even Slytherins are impervious to love.’

When Morgana once more buried her face at her friend’s shoulder, Charis could not stop her own tears from falling. She knew herself how much unrequited love could hurt. But Morgana had been through even more. Dumbledore had made her give her body to the cause, and Malfoy had taken her heart. And now she had lost the baby that had been fathered by a man who had never cared for her. Her body was broken, and so was her heart.

‘I am so sorry, Morgana.’ Charis’ heart ached for her friend, and she wished there was some way she could share her burden or say something to ease her pain. But all she could do was be there for her.

‘I am sorry, too, Charis,’ Morgana whispered, freeing herself from Charis’ embrace. ‘I am sorry for pushing you away. Please, please, believe me that I did not mean to.’

‘Honey, hush.’ Charis was overwhelmed by affection. How could Morgana apologise for that now? Now, when she had such heavy burdens to carry on her own? ‘I know you didn’t mean to. The mood in your House... ’

‘I wish I had been Sorted into Ravenclaw,’ Morgana commented sadly and tried to give her friend a small smile. ‘It would have saved me a lot of trouble.’

Charis smiled back and once more pulled her friend into a tight hug. ‘You know you’re always welcome in Ravenclaw Tower, Morgana Belakane.’

It was almost midnight when the girls let go of each other. They had cried together, they had even laughed. And they had talked about all the things they had kept from each other over the last couple of months, realising how silly they both had been. There had never been a reason for jealousy or anger. They were the Star Sisters. Nothing and nobody would ever make them stop loving each other.

They parted at the bottom step of the stairs that led to the Astronomy Tower, Charis headed for Ravenclaw Tower and Morgana for the dungeons. And both of them were so keen not to be seen by anyone that they both missed Fudge, Dawlish and Shacklebolt, who in their turn were heading for Dumbledore’s office.