Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The sun was high in the sky and it was one of the hottest days of the summer. Even the wind offered no reprieve. That didn't stop Morgana from giving Shadow, her horse, a workout. She urged him forward until they came to a wide, open field.

She slid off the saddle and pet Shadow's neck. "We'll be here for a while." He went off to graze as Morgana lay down in the field, her eyes closed.

Peace and quiet were things Morgana treasured. Unfortunately, neither of those could be found at LeFay Manor, at least not today. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy had come to visit. While Morgana did like spending time with her godmother, Draco simply gave her a headache.

She opened her eyes and stared at the sun. Shaking her head, Morgana rolled her eyes closed.

That boy.

Draco Malfoy was, in Morgana's opinion, self-centered and spoiled. It didn't help that he idolized his father, Lucius. Every visit would include more Pureblood ramblings from Draco. Agravaine, her guardian, told her to just ignore the boy, but sometimes it was just too much. His pompous attitude was enough to drive Morgana out of her own house. So instead of enduring his presence, she got her horse from the stables and went for a ride.

Draco Malfoy wasn't the only reason Morgana left the house. Narcissa's visit brought about a topic Morgana didn't really want to talk about.

The decision of which school Morgana was to attend, Beauxbaton or Hogwarts, had been the main topic of Narcissa's last few visits.

"Your mother went to Beauxbaton," Narcissa would tell her.

Morgana would always counter with, "but my father went to Hogwarts."

Despite not knowing either parent, Morgana had always felt closer to her father. The house she lived in had been in Gorlois LeFay's family for generations. The books in the library reflected that and Agravaine had been friends with Gorlois since they were children.

Gorlois and Morgana also had…similar talents.

When Morgana was nine years old, she often suffered from awful nightmares. The reoccurring theme in every dream was fire. After a particularly bad night, Morgana awoke screaming and somehow managed to catch her wardrobe on fire. Agravaine, who had dealt with such instances like this with Gorlois, was able to put the fire out and calm Morgana down.

That very same night, Agravaine told Morgana of Gorlois' powerful magic. The kind of magic that didn't need a wand. The kind of magic that was old. The kind of magic that must be kept hidden.

Morgana understood his meaning. But instead of ignoring this magic within her, she quietly embraced it. No one could teach her this kind of magic, and even if someone could, it was forbidden. At least, that was how her guardian made it seem. No, Morgana honed her skills in private.

Fire wasn't something she was afraid of anymore. In fact, she loved fire.

With a grin, Morgana rolled onto her side, and plucked a blade of grass from the ground. With a flash of gold from her eyes the blade went up in flames.

This wasn't the only thing Morgana could do, however. She was able to move things with nothing but a thought. Small things were easy, but larger objects required much more concentration.

Agravaine would often regale her with stories of Gorlois' antics in school and it was in those moments that Morgana felt closer to her father. She had decided that if Hogwarts was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for her.

Narcissa did not understand. "A child must understand their entire heritage, not just half," she had once said.

The more her godmother harped on the subject, the more Morgana ignored her. To avoid arguments, Morgana had insisted on simply thinking about it while knowing full well she had already made a decision.

The sudden sound of her horse brought Morgana out of her musings. Shadow slowly approached her, a large owl balancing on the saddle. Morgana quickly stood and her heart beat with panic. She hadn't exactly told anyone she was leaving and feared her godparents had sent an owl to find her.

As she got closer she realized the owl had a letter…the wax seal had the crest of Hogwarts.

She quickly opened it, her eyes quickly scanning the parchment.

Dear Miss LeFay,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A grin graced her lips as she turned to her horse. "I suppose we should tell Agravaine." She climbed into the saddle and raced home.

Narcissa and Agravaine were exactly where Morgana had left them, in the study. The doors were closed, so Morgana tiptoed to the mahogany doors and listened.

"I appreciate your concern, Narcissa. However, Morgana can make her own decisions-"

"Her own decisions?" Narcissa repeated. "Morgana is a child and should be treated as such. Perhaps if you stopped treating her like an adult-"

"She'd be as spoiled as Draco," Agravaine interrupted.

There was a long pause before Narcissa spoke again. "Draco is afforded certain luxuries and privileges given by our name and status. That does not mean he is spoiled." She paused again before adding. "And that admission tells me more about your shortcomings than mine."

Deciding that this conversation had gone on long enough, Morgana threw the wooden doors to the study wide open. Both adults gave her strange looks as she approached the desk Agravaine sat behind.

She placed the letter in front of her godfather and said casually, "I think we'll need to go to London."

Agravaine eyed her for a moment before checking the broken seal. "Hogwarts."

She gave a quick nod. "Can we go tomorrow?"

Narcissa shifted in her seat. "You've made your decision then." It wasn't a question and now Morgana was going to have to explain why she chose Hogwarts.

"I figured I would go to the school that sent me a letter first," she lied.

Apparently she lied poorly, given the disapproving look on Narcissa's face.

"I'll send a reply this evening," Agravaine cut in. "We'll leave tomorrow after breakfast."

With a smile of gratitude, Morgana left the study, closing the doors behind her.

Without any real destination in mind, Morgana wandered around the house. She passed her father's old office when something seemed out of the ordinary. Taking two steps backwards, Morgana peered inside the doorway and was immediately livid.

With a book in his hands, Draco sat reading with his feet on the desk…the desk that belonged to Gorlois.

"Get your dirty, foul smelling feet off my father's desk." Morgana demanded.

Draco looked up from the book and smiled at her. "Finally decided to speak to me?"

She closed the space between them. "Off the desk," she growled.

His grin was infuriating. "I'll move them on one condition…you have to kiss me."

Thoroughly done with him, Morgana used her magic to slowly lift the chair Draco was sitting in.

The fear in his eyes was immensely satisfying. "Put me down!" he shouted.

Morgana did as he requested, flipping the chair over and dumping him onto the floor. "Put your feet on anything else and I'll throw you out the window." Without waiting for a response from him, Morgana stormed out of the office and headed straight for her room.

The door to her room shut itself and she sat at the edge of the bed, calming herself.

Well, she thought, at least he's going to Durmstrang and I won't have to deal with him for a while.

Merlin sat at the kitchen table, silently playing with the tablecloth and trying desperately hard to become invisible. His parents were arguing, the object of their disagreement lay on the table.

Dear Mr. Ambrose,

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 September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Merlin wasn't quite sure how he felt about the letter. Attending a magical school would certainly be out of the norm for him. Ever since he was of age, Merlin attended a normal school with normal students and a normal curriculum. That's not to say that Merlin was normal by any means.

Merlin's magic had a way of acting out at the worst possible times. There was one particular incident where he turned the librarian's hair purple because she wouldn't let him check out more than two books.

At that point, Balinor tried his best to teach Merlin to control his magic. Unfortunately for Balinor, Merlin was a fast learner and his magical talent seemed to have no end.

Going to Hogwarts offered Merlin an opportunity to learn to wield his magic like a 'proper' wizard. A school like Hogwarts probably had a library stacked from floor to ceiling with books and Merlin loved to read.

As all the benefits of attending ran through Merlin's mind, he just couldn't understand why Balinor seemed adamant about Merlin not attending Hogwarts.

"It's not safe there, Hunith," Balinor argued. "If something were to happen-"

"Then the right people with the right resources can help him." Hunith replied calmly. "Half the time Merlin's the one causing trouble and there's certainly nothing someone like me can do about it."

His mother's words weren't meant to be taken harshly, but Merlin was embarrassed anyway.

"You make it sound like he's dangerous," Balinor pointed out. "He's still learning-"

Hunith crossed her arms and fixed her husband with a stern look. "Then we should let someone who's capable teach him." She turned to Merlin. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I've taught you to read and write. I can help you with math and science to the moon and back…but magic?" She shook her head and turned back to Balinor. "If there's nothing left for you to teach him and I can't cultivate his magical talent, you better damn well believe I'm going to send him to someone who can."

"Swear," Merlin blurted.

Both of his parents turned to him, his mother offering a small smile.

"I meant what I said." She moved to stand next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "What do you think, Merlin? Do you want to go to Hogwarts?"

The more Merlin thought about it, the more he saw the benefits of attending. A school with witches, wizards and magic? Yes. He absolutely wanted to go to a school like that.

Just as Merlin was about to verbalize his answer, he noticed his father in deep thought.

Balinor was looking down at the floor and seemed to be in the middle of his own inner monologue. He must have felt eyes on him because he suddenly made eye contact with Merlin.

With a sad smile, Balinor sat down across from his son and folded his hands.

"Your mother is right," Balinor said slowly. "This is a big decision and you should be the one to make it."

Merlin's face lit up, as if Christmas had come early. "Really?"

Balinor nodded and Merlin leapt out of his chair to hug his father. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

"So I take it that you do want to go?" Balinor laughed.

"Oh," Merlin straightened up. "Yes. Yes I do."

Balinor ruffled Merlin's hair before reaching for the list of books on the table. "I can get these tomorrow." He folded the parchment and slid it into his pants pocket. "In the meantime, go wash up for dinner."