Morgana Harry Potter Novels & Stories

She was the figure under the tree at Colin’s party, the one watching us at Moonbrook. “Identify yourself,” Solon called up, his voice carrying across the yard. The woman looked at us and spoke casually. “After everything, you still don’t know me. I’m hurt. I expected better of Rudolf’s children.” Next to me, Camilla stood rigid, her face twisted with a rage so deep and old it must have built up over a lifetime. My stomach dropped. Then I realized who she was. Morgana. She was here, inside Silverfang, above us. The wall did nothing to keep her out. That thought frightened me. What if she enchanted the mad rogues? Would she be able to get them through the wall?

Puppets carved from blood and bone. And at their center… Morganna. She didn’t ride. She glided. Feet never touching the earth, her robes billowing like smoke, her silver crown gleaming like ice. She looked almost human—beautiful, even. But that was the lie. Her power dragged behind her like a corpse. And her eyes—those cruel, gleaming eyes—found me across the battlefield and lit with pleasure. “Well,” she said, her voice somehow both soft and booming. “The little ember returns.”

“I don’t know anyone named Morgana. I know her as V.” “What does she look like?” “She uses disguises. Sometimes she’s tall and blonde, sometimes she’s short, curvy and African American. Its changed each time I’ve been near her, but she smells the same. A strange burning metallic overlayed with a mustiness, like mold. But she tries to cover it with perfume. Her voice hasn’t changed either, but I know she can do that too.” I nod, not surprised by his information. “Who is he planning on attacking next?”

As soon as they stepped through the door Morgana was back in the bedroom and she let out a soft moan and then rubbed her temples, Alexis handed her the glass of water and two Advil she had left with him. ‘Are you okay Morgana? What did you discover?’ He was impatient to know but she hesitated, ‘Alpha the Luna is very special.’ His growl rumbled through the entire Pack House and she sighed, ‘Her mother was a witch.’ Morgana stated and he stepped back, ‘That’s impossible, if she was a witch why didn’t she save herself? There is no way she should have died so soon after the birth if she had magic.’ ‘She had no choice.’

I need to get out of this house before the walls crush me. I need Morgana. She is a half-witch. If anyone knows how to trace the magical signature on those blackmail letters, or how to cast a cloaking spell over me until I figure out my next move, it’s her. She has always been my anchor in the treacherous waters of supernatural high society.

"This is not my true form. This is not my proper realm of existence. What the hell am I doing in the land of the living, trapped within this innocent girl's mortal body?" Morgana looks genuinely confused by this line of questioning, as if Serena's reaction is not what she had expected or prepared for. She opens her mouth to say something in her defense, but absolutely nothing coherent comes out of her throat. Instead, she chuckles nervously and begins scratching at her neck, a gesture that betrays her growing anxiety and discomfort.

His aura pressed heavy on the walls, dark and dangerous, but Morgana acted like she was discussing the weather. “She’s the only one capable of retrieving what we need,” Morgana said finally, her tone maddeningly calm. “The only one?” Dax scoffed, stepping closer, eyes glowing red. “You sent her into the Abyssal Bloom Forest! Even some elites don’t go there without backup, and you send her, that fragile chaos you claim to be studying? You’ve lost it.” I clenched my fists. “You know as well as I do that place eats power. Even some of the high elites wouldn’t last a day. What’s she supposed to do with two half-trained students and a baby dragon?”

TOBIAS I still remembered the day we met her. The witch. Her name was Morgana Blackthorne, and she was unlike any other. Morgana Blackthorne was feared by many, but she was no monster. No twisted, evil creature waiting to cause harm. There were whispers about her, of course—talk of curses, dark spells, and prices too steep to pay. Some said she could call upon shadows themselves, that she could see the future in the embers of a dying fire. Others claimed she was immortal, an ancient being who had walked the earth long before the first packs had even formed.

“You answer the questions, and maybe your death will be quick instead of slow. That is all we are offering.” Elena looked between us, seeing no mercy, no escape. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Her name is Morgana,” she whispered. “Morgana the Black. She is a witch who serves the Council of Alphas.” “What Council?” I demanded. “There is no official Council in this region.”

He asked, turning sharply at me. I blinked, staring at him. Doe eyed. I could not tell him the person I'd seen was Morgana. She was the strongest breed of the century, the youngest person to connect to the one power and the daughter of the chief of the pack clan, the second most powerful clan in the four kingdoms. Accusing such a person of practicing black magic— a practice forbidden in the four kingdoms could be considered treason. So weighing the odds, I did what I had just learnt how to do best.