Harry Potter and the Return of Merlin: Chapter 7 (8/?)
Title: Harry Potter and the Return of Merlin
Fandom: Merlin/Harry Potter Crossover
Rating: T for slight violence and language
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione...or at least the precursors to the relationships
Spoilers: HP - definitely through the end of OotP, since Merlin is supposed to know more than most, there may be other spoilers as well. Merlin - through the end of season 3 because I haven’t had a chance to watch season 4, so I can’t spoil it, lol.
Warnings: AU. Slight Violence and language.
Beta: the wonderful animeloveramy. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Merlin. They belong to J.K. Rowling and BBC respectively. They have simply been kind enough to allow dreamers like me to indulge in fantasies involving their characters. Some of the text is directly from, very close to, or inspired by what J.K. Rowling originally wrote. This is simply because this fic closely follows OotP and I see no reason to pretend that I’m better than J.K. Rowling and try to rewrite it. I will try to leave an AN at the bottom when I use large amounts of the text.
Summary: When Voldemort used a spell of the old religion to regain his body, he gives Merlin the reason he needed to step out of the shadows. Disguised as a fifth year student, he goes to Hogwarts to watch over Harry and do what he can in the war to come.
Previous: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Author’s Note: Just to let you know, since I’m in the last month of my sophomore year of college life has been getting incredibly busy and I haven’t had much time to write. Updates may be a bit infrequent for a while on all fics.
Chapter 7
Saturday morning came far too quickly for Kilgharrah. At Merlin’s request, he was keeping an eye on Harry and his two closest friends as it would be suspicious for Merlin himself to be around them as often as was necessary. Kilgharrah had his ways of remaining unseen and could easily keep an eye on the boy while Merlin kept up the charade that was required of him.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Harry was a naturally early riser and, given the ridiculously long torture sessions he had endured every night, he was usually busy until the wee hours of the morning attempting to finish his various assignments. Kilgharrah had been far older than Merlin when the Old Magic had removed them from time and the long hours were telling on him.
He grumbled quietly and swooped out of the dormitory behind Harry, following him into the common room. Kilgharrah landed on the rafters to watch him.
Harry bent over a piece of parchment and labored over it, clearly choosing his words carefully. Given the conversation he and Merlin had had the night before, Kilgharrah used a bit of magic to read the letter over Harry’s shoulder. He felt a little guilty at the intrusion, but they needed to know how best to aid the boy.
It was a bit difficult to decipher the messy scrawl from his position, but Kilgharrah managed.
Dear Snuffles,
Hope you’re okay, the first week back here’s been terrible, I’m really glad it’s the weekend.
We’ve got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She’s nearly as nice as your mum. I’m writing because the thing I wrote to you about last summer happened again last night when I was doing a detention with Umbridge.
We’re all missing our biggest friend, we hope he’ll be back soon. I’m a bit worried about Myrddin, too. There’s just something off about him.
Please write back quickly.
Best,
Harry
Kilgharrah frowned, surprised that Harry was already becoming so suspicious. He and Merlin had known from the beginning that there would be issues with their story. Merlin simply knew too much and had to be too involved for certain flaws in their tale to remain unnoticed. Dumbledore had smoothed things over with the Order by telling them that there were details that he knew but couldn’t disclose. It appeared that Harry either didn’t know that or had decided that he still wanted to know what was going on. Given his history with mysteries, Kilgharrah was leaning toward the later, which meant Merlin was going to have to give something away as a sign of good faith.
“This is turning out to be far more complicated than we anticipated,” Kilgharrah grumbled to himself. “I hope Merlin has a plan or I fear we will have only made things worse rather than better.”
It was going to be a very long day, he decided, as he flew out of the portrait hole after Harry.
***
Cloaked in shadows, Merlin crept through Hogwarts to the Room of Requirement. What he was about to do required privacy. It was time consuming, required absolute silence, and was obviously something the average wizard couldn’t do. There was a slim chance that, if they knew about the existence of the room, a student could enter while he was busy. Since his only other choice was the Chamber of Secrets, Merlin had decided that he’d try not to leave any loopholes when he opened the Room of Requirement and hope for the best.
He paced in front of the bare stretch of wall, concentrating on a comfortable place where he could channel his power without being disturbed. A door materialized on the third pass. Making sure that no one was watching, Merlin ducked inside.
The Room of Requirement had transformed itself into a lush forest clearing. There were even birds chirping in the trees. A moss covered stone engraved with symbols of the Old Religion stood in the center of the clearing. Overhead, stars glinted through the leaves overhead, casting everything with a silver tint. It was an exact replica of a druidic haven he’d once visited.
He smiled. “Perfect.”
Throwing up a shield that would slow anyone who managed to find a loophole into the room and give him time to hide, Merlin crossed the clearing and laid a hand on the stone. He could feel the magical aura pulsing from it.
“The Founders did an excellent job building this place,” he said, gazing around. “It’s a natural conduit for magic. I can’t believe the school was able to conjure this up. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that I was actually at the shrine.”
He flicked his wrist and the torches that lined the edges of the clearing sprang to life, casting flickering shadows over the stone and filling the clearing with warmth. With another word, the carvings on the stone began to glow with a gentle, golden light. Merlin slid his bag off his shoulder and sank cross-legged onto the ground in front of the stone. He reached into his bag and pulled out the Crystal of Neahtid.
It had been in his keeping for centuries, but he’d rarely used it. After the disastrous consequences that had come the first time he’d attempted to change the future, not to mention the first time he’d used the crystal at all and foreseen Kilgharrah’s attack on the city, Merlin had been hesitant to see into the future again. Usually, he’d been able to get by with following his instincts and scrying moments into the future, which was slightly different than having a vision.
This time, glimpsing just a few minutes into the future and getting an ambiguous sense for what was going to happen wouldn’t cut it. Though he could predict how Harry would react to having so many important secrets kept from him, Merlin couldn’t be sure exactly what the fallout was going to be. That was the one thing he needed to know if he was going to do any good. Which meant he was going to have to do something he really didn’t want to if he as going to do his job.
Merlin held the crystal loosely in his hands and closed his eyes, reaching out with his magic to feel the power flowing through the clearing. He let himself become one with the world around him, with the very nature of magic. Once he was completely immersed in the Old Religion, he reached into the Crystal.
Pain knifed through his head and images burned against his eyelids...
...Harry back in detention with Umbridge...
...“You’re less like your father than I thought”...
...The twins and Harry being banned from Quidditch...
...Harry in detention again...
...an article written by Rita Skeeter...
...Kreacher sneaking off to the Malfoys and telling them of Sirius’ and Harry’s almost father-son bond...
...students practicing spells in the Room of Requirement...
...a giant in the Forbidden Forest...
...Professor Dumbledore leaving Hogwarts...
...Harry collapsing during his O.W.L.s...
...Sirius falling into the veil and Remus holding Harry back...
Merlin gasped and dropped the crystal. Harry’s pain at losing his godfather knifed through him with an intensity he hadn’t felt since the Battle of Camlann. It was complimented by Remus’ own nearly overwhelming grief. Merlin fought to regain control of his emotions, but it was hauntingly clear what that vision meant. If things continued the way they were, Harry would lose one of the most important people in his life. If the intensity of the vision was any indication, he would never truly get over it.
“Damn it. I warned him,” Merlin hissed to himself. “I bloody well warned that old coot that he needed to tell Harry what was going on or there would be consequences. How in bloody Avalon am I going to stop this?”
He shoved the Crystal back into his bag. He’d learned more than enough for the time being and wanted nothing more to do with the cursed thing. Now he had to figure out what exactly to do with the knowledge he’d gained and how best to use it to change the future without simply ensuring that it comes to pass.
Taking a series of deep breaths, Merlin managed to calm himself a bit. He once more immersed himself in the magic of the room and began to search for answers in the Old Religion.
How do I tell Harry, and the Order for that matter, how Voldemort survived fourteen years ago and how that helped him regain his body in June? How do I tell Harry that the reason Voldemort is after him is because of a prophecy that didn’t even mean anything until Voldemort decided that it did? And how in Avalon’s name do I tell Harry and the Order, especially Sirius, why Harry is the only one who can actually defeat Riddle?
“By the Power of all sorcerers past, how the hell am I supposed to manage this?” he groaned out loud, feeling more helpless than he had for the past thousand years.
He didn’t get an answer. It was times like these that Merlin really missed Gaius. Kilgharrah was a wealth of knowledge, but he just wasn’t the same as the old physician. Gaius had just had a way of saying the one thing Merlin needed to hear.
Merlin lingered in the makeshift Druidic grove for a few more minutes before gathering his things and extinguishing the torches. He was no closer to an answer and he couldn’t linger much longer or someone, most likely Harry, would become suspicious. Besides, his best chance of figuring out what to do next was to interact with the people he was meant to be helping.
The hall was deserted when he slipped out of the Room of Requirement. Late evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows at the end of the hall. Merlin cursed under his breath. He’d been in there the whole day. He must have spent more time than he’d thought in that vision.
MERLIN!
Ack! Kilgharrah, why are you yelling?
I am yelling because I have been attempting to contact you for hours! Where have you been?
In the Room of Requirement looking for answers, as you well know. What is so important?
The timber of Kilgharrah’s thoughts became abruptly serious. I fear things are already spiraling out of Dumbledore’s control. His decision to keep so much hidden from Harry, and the Order, is already having consequences.
Merlin looked up sharply, half expecting to see Kilgharrah in front of him. What? What happened?
Harry is more wary of you than we realized. He is worried enough that when he wrote to Sirius about the events of this past week, he mentioned you. Given his tendency to ferret out any secret around him, it may be best to reveal enough to make him happy, or he may come to the wrong conclusion.
Of course. I was afraid that would be the case. I’ll think of something to tell him. Is there something else?
Rather than explain, Kilgharrah shared with Merlin a memory of Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting in the common room, doing their homework. An owl landed on the window, bearing a letter from Percy that gave Merlin the urge to force some sense into the prat. He was glad to see Sirius appear in the fire and talk to Harry about feeling his scar burn during the last detention.
Then things took a downward turn when Sirius suggested meeting the trio in Hogsmeade. Obviously worried for his godfather’s safety, Harry had said no. Sirius’ response to that rang in Merlin’s ears.
“You’re less like your father than I thought.”
Merlin cursed so foully that it would have made some of the knights he’d once known flush in embarrassment. The things he had seen were already coming to pass. He’d known he had precious little time to act and change things for the better, but events were moving far more quickly than he’d anticipated.
I fear that being trapped within that house is doing Sirius harm, and by extension, his relationship with Harry, said Kilgharrah sadly.
That can’t happen, Merlin said firmly. They need each other. They’re the only family each other has. If we don’t do something, Sirius will become more reckless and he will die by the end of the year.
There was a moment of absolute silence, before Kilgharrah asked, How do you know that, young warlock?
I used the crystal.
You have refused to do so for centuries.
Really? I didn’t know that, he thought dryly. It was time. I do not know everything, but I know that. If it comes to pass, it will effect Harry greatly.
What do you plan to do?
Merlin thought for a moment. The memory of Kreacher using a loophole in Sirius’ orders to leave Grimmuald Place surfaced in his mind. He knew from his years watching over everyone that Kreacher...disliked...Sirius because the elf thought that Sirius hated Regulus. This wasn’t the case, of course. Sirius merely disproved of his brother’s choices since he didn’t know the reasons behind them. Kreacher was a major factor in Sirius’ misery. Maybe there was something he could do about it.
Merlin?
I think I’ll have a talk with Kreacher, he said slowly, a plan forming in his mind.
Kilgharrah rolled his eyes. I do not think I will even ask.
I’ll be back in the common room soon. I’m just going to stop by the library and find a couple of books. It will give me the excuse that I was trying to “catch up” on a couple of subjects.
Very well, young warlock, but hurry. It is almost after hours.
Merlin rolled his eyes. I’ll be fine.
Of course you will, Kilgarrah said dryly. Nothing ever goes wrong.
Knowing that the dragon was thinking about all the times he had managed to find trouble while going about his business (the time he’d been gathering herbs and been attacked by a griffin and saved by Lancelot came to mind), Merlin hurried to the library. Madam Pince leveled a piercing glare at him when he walked through the door.
“What are you doing? It’s almost curfew!”
“I know,” he said apologetically. “I really need a couple of books to help me with Charms, Runes, and Transfiguration. I’m a bit further behind than we thought I’d be.”
She continued to glare at him. “All right. Hurry up. I won’t be writing you a pass and it’ll be your own fault if Mr. Filch catches you.”
Merlin nodded his understand and made a show of hurrying toward the Charms section. Once he was out of sight, he pictured the books he wanted in his mind and muttered, “Gwysio.” Four heavy books soared unerringly through the maze of shelves and landed in his arms. Grinning to himself, he returned to Madam Pince.
Her eyes narrowed when she saw him. “That was quick.”
“I knew what I was looking for,” he shrugged.
Though she continued to eye him like beady-eyed vulture, Madam Pince carefully checked out the books before shooing Merlin out the door with her feather duster and shutting the door behind him with a snap.
“What a lovely woman. Screcnan.”
The books in Merlin’s arms shrank in size until they were each the size of his hand. He placed them in his bag, careful not to touch the Crystal of Neahtid. Adopting the harried look of someone who’d lost track of time, he half ran down the corridor.
And nearly plowed into Fred and George Weasley who were scrutinizing Professor Umbridge’s office door with the kind of expression that guaranteed havoc would soon be wrought. He slid to a stop, just barely managing to avoid a collision.
“In a hurry, Myrddin?” asked Fred, cocking an eyebrow.
George smirked. “Got somewhere important to be?”
“Not really. I just wanted to get back to the common room before curfew. What are you two doing?” he asked. “You don’t have detention, do you?” Please say no, please say no. I haven’t made any more enchanted bracelets.
“Tonight is not for punishment, but for mischief making,” said George with mock seriousness.
Merlin started to smile. “What are you planning?”
The twins shared a look.
“What do you think, Gred. Should we tell him?”
“Do you think he can be trusted, Forge?”
“Perhaps. But can he help us?”
They turned to Merlin expectantly. He grinned.
“While I might be a bit behind in my formal education, I have learned quite a few interesting little spells that might come in handy with your mischief making, if you’ll let me help, that is.”
Identical evil smirks spread across Fred’s and George’s faces.
“If we’re going to join forces--”
“--you must first prove you are worthy.”
“Who do I prank?” he asked.
They pointed at the office door. “Umbridge.”
A smirk that would put the Marauders to shame appeared on the warlock’s face. “It would be my pleasure.”
***
The next day, Merlin once more snuck out of the dorm. He stopped in a largely unused secret passage and pulled out his wand. Expanding it once more into a staff, he changed his school robes and cloak into his customary tunic and breeches and a midnight blue cloak that clasped at his shoulder with an intricately wrought triple spiral, the symbol of the Old Religion. His everyday style hadn’t changed much since Camelot.
Raising his hood to conceal his face, Merlin loosened ever so slightly his iron grip on his magic, letting it flow out from him in a tangible aura of power until his eyes began to glow golden and he appeared to be every inch the warlock he was.
He tapped his staff firmly on the floor and disappeared from Hogwarts in a gust of wind.
A loud, startled shout greeted him when he arrived in the kitchen at Grimmuald Place. Merlin reflexively dodged the stunning spell sent flying toward him by Sirius and banished the man’s wand with a flicker of his eyes.
“Peace,” he said quickly, before Sirius could transform into Padfoot and maul him. “I mean you no harm. I am a friend.”
Sirius looked skeptical and his gaze kept flickering toward his wand where it lay on the floor, a foot from Merlin. “If you’re a friend then how did you get in here. It would take really dark magic to get through the charms on this place.”
“Not dark, simply old,” said Merlin, smirking slightly.
“What?”
“The Old Religion, the magic of the Druids, is not wholly dead. There are still those who practice it. I am one of those.”
Sirius’ eyes widened as noticed the glowing staff in Merlin’s hand. All of the old families traced their lineage back as far as possible, often back to the druids. There would be records of the druids that had been part of the house of Black as well as highly accurate drawings of the staff that would have been passed through the family, until the ability to use a staff to channel magic had died out. Merlin was hoping that Sirius would connect his Sidhe staff with the simpler, less powerful staffs most warlocks had used during the height of the Old Religion.
“That’s an old fairy staff.”
Well, that was unexpected, thought Merlin, nonplussed. He inclined his head slightly to acknowledge that Sirius was right.
“It was, but it became mine when I defeated the Sidhe who wielded it. Do you believe me?”
“For now,” Sirius said grudgingly. “What do you want?”
“To help.”
“With what? Voldemort?”
“Is there another threat to the wizarding world that you think I might be interested in destroying?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Not really, but Old Magic is supposed to be gone, so who knows. How exactly do you think you can help? And why didn’t you do something before?”
“I am bound to the balance of the world,” Merlin said sadly. “The Druidic magics have little place in this time and as such can do little to effect most events that come to pass. We who wield Old Magic are meant to work in the shadows. It is rare that we intervene as I am, but I have little other choice. The balance is in grave danger.”
Sirius blinked. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“To the outsider, I suppose that it does not,” acknowledged Merlin. “Unfortunately, explaining everything would take too long and I doubt you would truly understand the ancient ways. Much has been forgotten. What you must understand is that the situation has become dire enough that it was time for me to step forth or the consequences of this war will be devastating.”
The gravity of the situation seemed to finally hit Sirius. “What has that got to do with me?”
“More than you know. Call to Kreacher.”
Sirius’ eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You have got to be kidding.”
“Not really. The elf has a greater role than you realize.” Merlin glared sternly at him. “Call him, if you wish to avoid the horrifying chain of events his actions, and your actions as well, will set into motion.”
That might have been a bit melodramatic. I just hope I get the point across.
“Are you accusing me of something?” Sirius demanded.
Or not.
“It is not that simple. Call the elf and I will explain.”
Though looking slightly mutinous, Sirius summoned Kreacher. The elf appeared with a loud crack. He bowed, eyeing Sirius murderously.
“Master called, ungrateful blood traitor that he is.”
“Enough!” Merlin commanded before Sirius could retort. “You shall both hear me, or there will be hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?”
Both man and elf nodded. Kreacher looked Merlin up and down appraisingly. Sirius just seemed stunned.
Merlin glared at them from beneath the shadow of his cloak. “Now, then. You have both been at odds for years and that cannot continue. It is effecting the balance of the world. Normally, I would not bother as a disagreement between man and house elf is generally not that significant, but this is different. Your enmity will lead to great danger for the entire wizarding world.”
“You have got to be kidding,” Sirius grumbled.
“I am not,” Merlin hissed, allowing his magic to color his voice, making his words reverberate through the room. “You hate Kreacher because you believe he represents everything that your family stood for and he dislikes you--”
“Because I was different from the rest of my cursed family,” cut in Sirius bitterly.
Merlin glared at him. “This is serious, and don’t you dare make some ridiculous pun,” he growled when Sirius began to speak. “Kreacher has no love for you, but not because you did stand against the beliefs of the head of the family. As the new head of the House of Black, he should believe as you do. He resists because he formed a special bond with Regulus. He holds onto it because he believes that you hated your brother.”
The blood drained from Sirius’ already pale face. “I never hated Reg. I hated his choices, but never him. He made his decision and I always regretted that I couldn’t save him from it. We were on opposite sides of the board the moment I became a Gryffindor. That became even more true when he joined the Death Eaters.”
“He did not make that choice freely.”
“How the hell can you know that?” demanded Sirius in a deadly voice.
Merlin sighed sadly. “As a keeper of the balance, it is my duty to watch over the world. I have witnessed many things. One of my deepest regrets is that I must not interfere. I watched your brother make the choice to serve Voldemort, not because he wanted to, but because it was the only way to ensure that Voldemort did not destroy himself, your parents, and even you for being members of a House that would not serve him. Regulus was protecting you all.”
“He was what?” Sirius choked. “Is that...is that why he died?”
“Yes and no. He discovered something that Voldemort had done, something that Regulus decided he had to stop. I wish I could give you the details, but now is not the time. Know that your brother died a hero, doing all he could to stop Voldemort. And that Kreacher helped him.”
Sirius gaped at the house elf, who dissolved into tears.
“Kreacher could not save Master Regulus. Master Regulus told Kreacher to be sure he got the bad amulet away from the cave and destroy it. But Kreacher couldn’t do it. Kreacher is a bad, bad elf.”
Knowing that Sirius was still desperately trying to process everything he’d heard, Merlin knelt before Kreacher and laid a gently hand on his thin shoulder.
“No magic you possess could have destroyed that locket,” he said softly. “There is nothing you could have done. You are not a bad elf. You did well to keep that safe for all these years.”
“Master Sirius threw it away,” Kreacher sniffed, “so Kreacher saved it.”
“You must realize that Sirius is not your enemy, Kreacher. He may not have agreed with his mother and father and his relationship with Regulus may have been strained, but they were ultimately on the same side. Do you understand?” Kreacher nodded. “You did well to save the locket. Continue to keep it safe. One day, that locket will play a very important role and it will be destroyed. But not yet, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Sirius.
Straightening, Merlin sighed. “I cannot say. If I were the only person involved, I would. But there is another, one who is not a druid and therefore who, for the moment, has the right to decide when certain information is disclosed. As ironic as it is, I cannot take the liberty to override him until the balance is in greater danger.”
Which is why I’m going to be sending Dumbledore very annoying messages until he finally listens to me. One would think that he’d actually take the advice of someone who’s lived for hundreds of years rather than just twinkle at them and nod, he grumbled to himself.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to trust me,” he finished out loud.
Sirius nodded, though he didn’t look entirely happy. “Is that what you came here to tell us? Or was there something else?”
“There was. I saw a glimpse of the future. Because of your treatment of Kreacher, he betrayed you to your cousin, Narcissa.”
Kreacher glared at Merlin. “Kreacher would never betray the House of Black.”
“You didn’t betray the House of Black. You betrayed Sirius.”
Shuffling his feet embarrassedly, Kreacher glanced from Merlin, to Sirius, and back to the floor. “Kreacher may not like Master Sirius, but he would not betray Master Sirius. He is now head of Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.”
“Would you be saying that if I had not come here today?”
He didn’t answer.
“It will take the both of you to change the future,” Merlin told them. “In the vision I saw, Kreacher’s betrayal led to your death, Sirius.”
Sirius blanched and Kreacher began to twist his own ears.
“This was not wholly Kreacher’s fault. Staying in this house was not good for you, Sirius. You became reckless and desperate to do something. When you learned that Harry had gone to the place where the weapon is kept--”
“Why would he do that?” demanded Sirius.
“I do not know. I only saw that your death would come in the Department of Mysteries. I assume that when you learnt Harry was there you went after hi--”
Sirius interrupted again. “Of course I would! He’s my godson.”
“That may be, but it was also because you were desperate to do something, regardless of the danger to yourself. You fought with no concern for yourself and it got you killed. That loss was a grievous blow to Harry.
“This house is already effecting you to that end. I foresaw what you said to Harry last night, about not being his father. Would you have said that to him if you were not desperate to get out of this place?”
“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius groaned. “I can’t believe I said that. Especially after what Molly said about mistaking Harry for James. I just...”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Merlin said gently. “You need to explain it to Harry. You mean more to him than you know. He is completely isolated because no one believes that Voldemort has returned. He needs your support. He needs to know that you love him, that he has someone who will be there for him.”
He took a step back and adjusted his grip on his staff. “It is time now that I leave. I have told you what you need to change the future. If you heed my warning and succeed, the casualties of this war may not be as great. Good luck.”
Sirius started out of his chair, questions clear on his face, but Merlin tapped his staff on the ground and transported himself back to his little cottage in the middle of nowhere.
Once there, Merlin slumped against the wall. He really hoped Sirius listened to him. Changing the future rested on his shoulders more than Kreacher’s. If they could change that one thing, the future might not be so bleak.
But that was up to them now. Merlin would have to worry about it later. He still had things to do and the day was only so many hours long.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head, the one that sounded a lot like Gaius, that was telling him that this was a waste of his time and skill as he quickly brewed a potion for his prank on Umbridge. Perhaps it was a bit immature for someone as powerful and as old as he was, but it was probably also the best way to win over certain people and boost school moral at the same time. It had only been a week and almost everyone, even the teachers already hated Umbridge.
While the potion was setting, Merlin walked over to the room where he kept all of the old, rare, and exceptionally powerful magically paraphernalia he’d kept over the years. Lying on a shelf directly opposite the door, was a small scroll tied with a violet ribbon. It had been given to him centuries ago by an old friend, but he’d been hesitant to make use of it. However, if the future he had glimpsed through the Crystal of Neahtid did not begin to change, then he would have to use the spell written on the scroll to call on someone who saw the future far more clearly than he did. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure that he trusted that person.
Merlin sighed and slid the scroll into his bag. He collected a few odds and ends that he would need to make more of the healing bracelets and placed them in his bag as well before returning to the kitchen. For the next hour or so, Merlin made and enchanted the bracelets while he waited for the potion to stop bubbling. Once it did, he bottled it, transformed his clothes back into school robes, and transported himself to the same secret passage he had used earlier.
He’d been gone all day again, and the school was mostly asleep. It was a simple matter for him to creep down the kitchen, convince Dobby to slip the potion he’d brewed into Umbridge’s drink because she wouldn’t believe Harry, and make it back to Gryffindor tower.
***
It was the creaking of the door that woke him. Harry groped blindly for his glasses, finding them just in time to see Myrddin slip into the dormitory. Harry frowned slightly. Myrddin had been gone all weekend. He claimed that he’d spent Saturday studying so that he wouldn’t be so far behind in his classes. Harry wasn’t sure if he believed that. Myrddin hadn’t been that far behind. It seemed like he was stalling more than failing. He rarely produced the mistakes the rest of them did. Instead, nothing happened until at least half the class had succeeded and then he miraculously got it.
What’s more, Hermione had spent quite a while in the library all weekend and had seen neither hide nor hair of Myrddin. Harry wondered what the other boy might have spent the whole weekend doing. He looked exhausted.
Harry watched silently as Myrddin changed into his pajamas. He had a strange, star shaped scar on his chest that Harry hadn’t seen before. Myrddin had always been careful to change in private. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what else Myrddin was hiding.
He fell asleep, still wondering.
Next: Chapter 8