The Untold Tragedy Of Morana Black

Chapter One

Chaos ripped through the Great Hall like a tornado as people scrambled onto their feet and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Morana Potter, wondering if she was Morana Black. 

"SILENCE!" Professor McGonagall bellowed over the noise, immediately quietening everyone in the room. "We haven't even started the first chapter, and you are acting like you have the impulse control of a toddler. Sit down and behave yourselves!"

Everyone reluctantly fell silent and sat down.

Chapter One: The Fatal Night

1980, Samhain

Lakewood Forest, Black Cottage

Hidden deep within a forest, somewhere between 'nunya' and 'business,' a charming two-story cottage stood within a small clearing overflowing with the prettiest wildflowers. Twisted oak trees created a border around the clearing; powerful enchantments and wards made the place safe for Irene Peverell-Black to raise her one-year-old daughter, Morana Hesperia Peverell-Black. 

Regulus and Irene shared a curious look before looking away, their cheeks turning pink. Victoria and Walburga watched the interaction with knowing eyes, pleased Regulus and Irene got married in the future - they were perfect for each other. 

Morana Peverell sat on the living room floor, cheerfully babbling nonsense to her mother while playing with her colorful toys and stuffed teddy bears. She wore a dark green dress and had a matching flower pinned in her blood-red locks of hair. She was a gorgeous child with stunning almond-shaped green eyes, an adorably irresistible face, and chubby cheeks her mother loved to pinch.

"It's you, isn't it?" Daphne Greengrass gasped in realization, whipping around to stare at Morana. She had blood-red hair and almond-shaped green eyes, just like the child described in the book. "Merlin's beard! You're Mother Magic's niece! You're Morana Black!" She said, clapping her hands over her mouth in disbelief. 

"Surprise," Morana said with fake enthusiasm.

"Why didn't you say anything, Morana?" Walburga frowned, trying to understand why the redhead didn't want anyone to know about her bloodline. She wasn't ashamed of her family, was she? Walburga tensed fearfully at the thought.

"Well, it would ruin the surprise, Gran," Morana smirked.

"Yeah," Irene sighed, watching Morana with warm, curious eyes. "She's my kid."

Irene Peverell listened to her daughter with a peaceful smile on her lips, humming in acknowledgment whenever Morana would look to see if she was still listening. The poor woman was exhausted after running around after her daughter all morning, who had recently learned how to crawl very fast when she had something in her mouth that she wasn't supposed to have.

Every mother and older sibling in the Great Hall laughed, understanding the stress clueless toddlers caused. Their inability to recognize dangerous things made for some intense chasing around the house. But everyone would agree that their love for children outweighed the stress they brought.

"Do you know fast toddlers can move?" A seventh-year Ravenclaw said to her friend in fond exasperation, referring to her younger sibling. "Who thought making kids fast was a smart idea?"

"Ain't that true!" A Gryffindor snorted in amusement.

"Don't I know how fast you can move," Tom grumbled under his breath, still annoyed she stole the last of his expensive whiskey last Yule. He still remembered collapsing on a couch after chasing her around the Manor for an entire hour, huffing and puffing, only for her to appear a second later, not even out of breath.