Harry Potter and the Return of Merlin: Chapter 10 (11/?)
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, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9
Author’s Note: Just a head’s up, there’s a massive AN at the end of the chapter so I don’t delay you too long dealing with some housekeeping. I will be adding some of the info there to my profile, but I do ask that you read it. Thanks!
Chapter 10
“MERLIN! YOU BLOODY USELESS WARLOCK! I KNOW YOU’RE UP THERE! DON’T THINK YOU CAN HIDE FROM ME! I KNOW YOU’RE THE ONE BEHIND THIS! SET IT RIGHT THIS INSTANT! OR I PROMISE YOU WILL REGRET IT IF IT’S THE LAST BLOODY THING I DO!”
Hidden behind the curtains of his four-poster, Merlin was lying on his back, hands clutching the sheets, trying desperately not to burst out laughing. It seemed that sending a message to Arthur through the paintings to let the king know that he was in the castle posing as a student had been a wonderful idea. This was going to be amusing.
His silent mirth was cut off when a weight landed squarely on his chest. Merlin swallowed his laughter and looked down at the dragon crouched on top of him.
“What did you do, young warlock?”
“Nothing,” Merlin said innocently. “I just removed the memory charm from Arthur’s painting and sent him a message letting him know I was here.”
“Then why, pray tell, is he currently frightening the Fat Lady out of her wits by invading her painting to shout at you?” asked Kilgharrah.
Merlin smirked. “I may have forgotten to remove the bloating charm.”
The little dragon’s eyes widened in understanding. “Then Arthur is still Sir Cadogan to those that see him.”
“Indeed.”
“You realize he will give you away.”
“No he won’t,” Merlin scoffed. “He’s a crazy portrait that most people try to avoid. He could shout to the Minister himself that I am the real Merlin Emrys and no one would take him seriously. He’s only going to discredit himself further by insisting to everyone he meets that he’s King Arthur when, as far they’re concerned, he’s a mad old knight from a portrait near the North Tower.”
Kilgharrah didn’t seem entirely convinced. “I hope for your sake that you are right, Merlin. In any case, you need to get down there and shut him up. He’s drawing a crowd and frightening the young ones.”
“Well to do that, you’ll have to get off of me.”
Pushing off with unnecessary force, Kilgharrah leapt into the air and soared back up into the rafters. Merlin rose and quickly pulled on school robes. Adopting a surprised and confused expression, he slung his bag over his shoulder and clattered down the stairs.
The entire dormitory was gathered around the portrait hole. Arthur’s shouts, which had echoed through the entire Tower, had diminished to a string of low threats, mostly to Merlin’s manhood. The warlock in question pushed through the crowd until he found Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were standing beside Ginny and Neville.
“What is going on?” he asked.
Harry looked skeptical. “You mean you didn’t hear the shouting?”
“Of course I did! It woke me up! Why is everyone just standing here?”
“They’re afraid to go through the portrait,” said Ron, looking amused. “Nick came through about ten minutes ago. Apparently, Sir Cadogan has gone mad.”
Ginny snorted. “I thought he was already mad.”
“Then he’s gone madder,” Ron replied irritably.
“They’re being ridiculous,” burst our Hermione. “We’re going to be late to class!”
“We’re going to be late to breakfast!” moaned Ron.
They immediately started bickering. Harry gave a long-suffering groan and gazed almost despairingly at his two friends. Merlin sympathized. It was obviously their way of flirting -- or ignoring the fact that they were flirting -- but it got annoying very quickly.
A couple of second years edged toward the portrait hole, only to spring back when Arthur shouted again.
“Oh, in the name of all the gods of the old religion,” Merlin muttered. “This is ridiculous.”
Clutching his bag in one hand so that he wouldn’t lose it, he shoved through the other students until he reached the portrait hole. Even though it had been so long he’d last heard them, the familiar threats held absolutely no sway over him. He highly doubted that Arthur could actually force him into the stocks or to muck out the stables.
Merlin nearly walked right into Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and for some odd reason, Snape when he exited the common common room, followed closely by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny.
“Sorry professor!” Neville squeaked, having very nearly trodden on Snape’s foot while trying to get out of the portrait hole without plowing into anybody. Snape glowered at him, until he noticed the disappointed look Merlin was sending his way.
“That’s quite all right, Mr. Longbottom,” he said through gritted teach. “Just ensure that you watch where you are going in the future.”
Everyone gaped at him, except for Dumbledore, who just twinkled, and Merlin who was bracing himself for his reunion with Arthur. The portrait swung closed, revealing that it was empty of anyone save Arthur. The Fat Lady had obviously fled. Arthur had his back to the people in the hall and was uselessly staring at the back of the painting as though he would actually be able to see into the common room when it opened. He was still muttering threats. It seemed he’d upgraded to letting Gwaine have his way with Merlin in the tavern. That actually was a scary thought, or would have been if his old friend wasn’t centuries dead and in no condition to get Merlin drunk.
“We’ve been attempting to get him out of there, but he won’t listen,” Professor McGonagall said irritably. “We can’t even seem to banish him back to his own painting.”
Merlin winced. He knew why that was.
“I thought that charm was working into every magical painting,” said Hermione.
“Not the really old ones,” Merlin answered before any of the professors could. “That variant of the banishing charm wasn’t discovered until a few decades after magical paintings were invented and even then it took some time for the tradition to catch on.”
Behind them, Arthur went still. He spun around, looking absolutely livid.
“MERLIN!”
The entire group jumped and spun to face him. Arthur marched up to the front of the painting, as close as he could get, and glowered at Merlin. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?” he roared.
“Me?” Merlin stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything!”
“Don’t try that with me, Merlin. You’re the only--”
“I’m not Merlin!” he protested, fighting to keep any signs of the humor he was feeling out of his expression. “My name is Myrddin!”
“And I’m bloody Modred! You think that after all these years stuck with you that I’d forget what you look like? You were like a bloody puppy, always following me around! Don’t you dare play games with me, or I’ll tell everyone about Dragoon the Great!”
Merlin frowned. “Who?”
For several moments, the king stared at Merlin spluttering indignantly in a very undignified manner before eventually finding his voice and growling, “You know bloody well who Dragoon the Great is, now change me back before I see fit to enlighten everyone else!”
A couple of centuries ago, maybe four or five, that would have been a viable threat. The Knights had teased Merlin mercilessly when they’d discovered that he had been the old man. Now, the long white beard and creaking joints just seemed to be the image that Merlin was saddled with. He was far too accustomed to it for Dragoon the Great to be any real threat.
Professor McGongall stepped forward and placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I haven’t the faintest idea what is the matter with you, but please refrain from shouting at the students. This is not Merlin. His name is Myrddin Lyonesse and he is a fifth year student at this school.”
“HE’S NOT A BLEEDING STUDENT! HE’S MERLIN, A CENTURIES OLD, INFINITELY POWERFUL, PAIN MY ARSE WARLOCK. A WARLOCK WHO IS TRYING MY PATIENCE!”
“If that is the case, then what would a warlock such as Merlin want with an insignificant portrait such as yourself, Sir Cadogan?” Snape asked silkily. He shot Merlin a curious glance as he did, since he knew who the warlock was. Merlin allowed his eyes to sparkle mischievously. Cocking his head just slightly, Snape’s gaze became even more questioning. Merlin gently prodded through the potion’s master legilimency shields and whispered, I’ll explain later.
Arthur glared at Merlin before answering Snape. “Don’t ask me to fathom the mind of that idiot. Is he the one that told you to use that ridiculous name? I’m not Sir Cadogan. I’ve never even heard of a Sir Cadogan!”
“Excuse me,” said Hermione, addressing Arthur, ‘but your name really is Sir Cadogan. I don’t know what you think it is, but you’re listed under that name in Hogwarts, A History in the paintings registry.”
“Your history is mistaken. It’s not my name.”
“What is your name, then?” asked Ron.
The once and future king looked pained and extremely annoyed. He glared at Merlin. “You are an idiot and I’m going to lock in the stocks for the next hundred years.” He turned back to the others. The teachers, except for Dumbledore who was still twinkling, looked irate while the students looked as though they were trying not to laugh. Arthur drew himself up regally. Merlin nearly choked in an effort not to laugh at the way the king’s armor rose up, exposing his now pudgy stomach ever so slightly.
“I am Arthur Pendragon.”
Ron snorted. “And I’m Godric Gryffindor.”
“Mr. Weasley,” McGongall reprimanded. “Perhaps you and your classmates had best proceed to the Great Hall. Miss Granger, please inform Professor Sprout that classes will be delayed.”
Ginny glanced toward the portrait hole. “What about the others?”
“I suppose they’ll be stuck in the dormitory until we sort this out,” squeaked Professor Flitwick.
Recognizing that the joke had gone on long enough, Merlin turned to Arthur. “Look, I don’t know why you think I’m Merlin or what you think I did, but I swear it wasn’t me. Will you please stop frightening everyone and let them out of the dormitory?”
The entire time he was speaking out loud, he’d also reached out with his mind to speak directly to Arthur. It was a bit more difficult than talking to another person, because Arthur technically wasn’t alive, but Merlin had worked out the kinks long ago.
All right, listen you prat, it really is me, and while I won’t deny that it’s a laugh seeing you like this, I’m not the one that did it. I found you like that when I got here at the beginning of the school year. It’s a very long story and I have good reason for leaving you looking like you’ve gone to seed. Now stop making a scene and I’ll come by your painting upstairs later tonight to explain everything.
Arthur nodded to Merlin just slightly before making a show of calming his temper.
“I am sorry for my behavior,” he apologized regally. “I’m not entirely sure what came over me. Please forgive me.”
He bowed deeply and walked out of the frame without any further comment. Professor McGonagall shook her head. “I swear, that man gets stranger with every passing year. Mr. Weasley, please inform the others that it is safe to leave. I need to speak with the other professors about delaying morning classes a bit after this hang up.”
She swept down the hall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Dumbledore heading after her. Snape lingered.
“A word, Mr. Lyonesse?”
Merlin nodded and glanced over at Harry and the others. “I’ll see you guys in the Great Hall.”
“Is it just me or does he actually seem like he’s looking forward to talking to Snape?” muttered Ron to Harry as they ducked back into the common to convince everyone they could leave without being attacked by a crazy painting.
Snape and Merlin only went as far as the nearest classroom.
“He didn’t always look like that, Arthur I mean,” said Merlin, the moment the door was shut behind them. He knew what Snape was curious about. “His portrait was hit with some badly cast spells several hundred years ago. We’d had a bit of an argument, so it took me until now to realize why he wasn’t speaking to me.”
“So that really is him?” Snape asked in mild surprise.
Merlin nodded. “Amazingly enough, yes it is.”
“He’s not exactly what I imagined.”
“Part of that is probably my fault. If I’m not mistaken, the last thing he remembers is the argument we had. Arthur most like lyassumed that I turned him into Sir Cadogan as revenge of some sort. It is something I would do, I can admit.”
“How did you know you were even here if he doesn’t remember anything from the past few centuries?”
Merlin ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. “I sent him a message through the painting I have letting him know that I was here. I didn’t know he was going to assault the tower when I told him.”
“Neither of you are as the legends say,” Snape said quietly, looking contemplative.
“History is rarely as cut and dry as people think it is. There are always many sides to every tale and they’re rarely told without embellishment.” Merlin’s eyes became distant as he remembered. “Arthur was far from perfect. When we first met, he was an arrogant, bullying prat and I was just a mouthy peasant with more magic than he could control or even begin to understand. For a long time, Arthur did as his father ordered him. Even after Uther died, his decisions often affected Arthur’s, whether it was right for the kingdom or not. He tended to take what he deemed to be matters of honor too seriously. But he was also one of the kindest, most noble men I ever knew. Few kings can claim even a fraction of the devotion for their people that Arthur held.
“I was no better. I made many mistakes. Mistakes that cost lives. I was given a destiny before I was ready. Magic was banned in those days. More often than not, I had no idea what I was doing. It was pure luck. Between serving Arthur and saving him, I had little time to study. There were times were I thought too highly of myself to listen to those with greater wisdom than I and there were consequences. Sometimes, I was too caught up in being a normal person to perform my duty as I was supposed to. No one from those days was as perfect as history would have us believe.”
Professor Snape walked slowly across the room, his robe billowing behind him. “For one such as I, that is gratifying to hear, though it is nonetheless strange.” His hand drifted unconsciously to his left arm.
“It is not our mistakes that make us, but how we chose to learn from them. You have learned better than most.”
“I would not say that.”
Merlin arched an eyebrow. “Why not? You’ve turned your back on one of the most powerful, most deadly Dark Lords of the age. What’s more, you’re spying on him. If he knew, he’d not only kill you, he’d do it as slowly and painfully as possible.”
“It isn’t enough to make up for what I’ve done.”
“You’ll never make up for it. You’ll feel guilty not matter how many good deeds you do. I would know. There are things that I still feel guilty for even a thousand years later. All you can do is try to make the right decisions when it counts and to be a better man than you were when you made the choice that haunts you.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not. It’s bloody difficult. But I find that most things that is true of most things. I must admit that I’m surprised you’re telling me all of this,” Merlin admitted. “Why are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Snape ran a hand through his hair. He was being uncharacteristically emotional. “I’m not entirely sure.”
“Gwaine used to tell me that I was better than a tankard of mead when it came to getting people to talk to me,” Merlin said, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. “He used to drag me along whenever he wanted to get information out of someone. I used to hate it because he’d inevitably get me incredibly drunk afterward.”
When Snape’s lips twitched slightly, Merlin decided to count it as a success. Then, the other man spoke. “Perhaps it is because I feel that you will not judge me. You’ve been more honest with me than anyone has in a very long time. I am grateful for that.”
“I hate lying, which is ironic considering how often I am forced to hide things” Merlin admitted wryly. “When I can, I tell the truth. I feel that I owe it to the world.”
For several long moments, the two men, wizard and warlock, stood side by side in silence. Merlin was pleased by the progress he was making with Snape. The man had a lot of pain bottled up inside of him, but he also had a lot of good within him and a lot of potential. Merlin only hoped he could help Snape to see that.
Eventually, Merlin broke the silence. “I should head to the Great Hall. I’m sure Harry and Ron think you’ve turned me into potion’s ingredients by now, especially after you were relatively nice to Neville.”
“Even I am not that cruel,” Snape muttered.
“You can’t exactly blame them for thinking that you might be,” Merlin pointed out.
A strange look crossed the other man’s face. Without another word to Merlin, he swept out of the room, leaving the warlock behind. He remained there for several minutes. It seemed he was doing more good than he’d originally thought. Maybe there wouldn’t be any need to ask her for help.
Even as that thought crossed his mind, Merlin knew it was wishful thinking. He was very nearly in over his head already. There was only so much he could do when he was just reacting.
Feeling a headache forming in his temples, Merlin made his way to the Great Hall. At least he had the surprise in Umbridge’s classroom to look forward to.
***
After convincing the other Gryffindors that it was safe to go near the portrait hole -- apparently too many of them remembered Sir Cadogan’s brief stint as a guardian from two years ago to go near him -- Harry went down to breakfast with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. He spent most of breakfast with one eye on the door, waiting for Myrddin to walk in. Harry hadn’t forgotten that Myrddin had been missing from the dorm once more the night before. Sir Cadogan’s odd behavior was another mystery to add to the list of things Harry had questions about Myrddin.
The man in question didn’t show up until breakfast was almost over. He was very tightlipped about his conversation with Snape, despite their questions. Harry, having learned quickly that Myrddin only gave information when he chose to, gave up and focused on his breakfast.
Ron, on the other hand, was still badgering him as they made their way to class.
“He just wanted to talk about my progress in catching up with the curriculum,” Myrddin groaned eventually. “It wasn’t some dark scheme to kill me or anything.”
“Oh, honestly, Ronald,” Hermione snapped when she saw the skeptical expression on his face. “Just because you don’t like Professor Snape and he isn’t a particularly nice person does not mean that he is actually evil!”
“No, the fact that he hates Harry does,” he retorted.
“Just give it a rest,” Harry snapped. “Myrddin’s obviously fine.”
“I still say Snape could have Imperiused him,” muttered Ron.
Hermione glared at him. “That’s illegal! Professor Snape wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Moody did last year.”
“That was a death eater, not Moody!”
“Snape’s a death eater, too,” Ron protested.
Myrddin elbowed Ron in the side. “Keep your voice down. That isn’t something he wants spread around, especially since he’s supposed to be a spy. You may not like the man, Ron, but don’t put his life in danger.”
Looking taken aback and angry, Ron stormed into the classroom, Hermione trailing after him looking a bit smug. Myrddin pulled Harry aside before he could follow as well.
“Please, try to keep your temper today,” he whispered. “You don’t need any more detention and I happen to know that something is going to happen in class. The last thing you want to do is draw attention to yourself.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’ll behave. What exactly did you do?”
Myrddin just smirked. “Why don’t you go see for yourself.”
Curiosity officially piqued, Harry walked into the classroom. He stopped just inside the door. The entire class was standing in front of the teacher’s desk, staring at the wall behind it. Glowing golden words had been carved into the stone above the blackboard.
The old ones do not take lightly to the torture of children. Teach them well to defend themselves against the evil that lurks outside these walls, or suffer the wrath of Emrys.
“Who’s Emrys?” asked Lavender.
“It’s the Druidic name for Merlin,” Hermione said, sounding slightly in awe. “I wonder who did this.”
Harry rounded on Myrddin. “Are you mad?”
“Perhaps a little. The druids have always possessed the ability and the right to invoke the name of Merlin, especially the druidic variant. Any testing will show that this is no trick. It is a warning of the Old Religion.”
“Isn’t that risky?”
“Of course it is,” said Myrddin, nonchalantly. “But a risk worth taking when there are so many lives at stake. Even if she does trace this back to me, which would require an amount of cleverness that I doubt that toad possesses, I can take care of myself.” He raised his voice and addressed the whole class. “We should probably sit down. A message on the walls won’t prevent Umbridge from giving us all detention.”
That got everyone sitting. Word had spread among the students of what Umbridge’s detentions were like. They’d all barely found their seats when the toad herself walked in.
“Good morning, class,” she simpered.
“Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” they chanted back in a monotone.
“Very good. You may begin reading chap-- Who did this!”
The entire class winced at her high-pitched shriek.
“W-we don’t know Professor,” said Parvati. “It was there when we came in.”
Umbridge pulled out her wand and pointed it at the message. “Finite incantatem!”
Nothing happened. She tried again. This time, the words glowed even more brightly. Umbridge spun around. “Who did this?” she demanded. “Was it you, Mr. Potter?”
Harry’s blood boiled at the accusation. He was halfway out of his seat without even realizing it when Myrddin’s voice sounded in his mind.
Don’t! That’s what she wants. Use your head!
Startled out of his anger, Harry sat back down and swallowed his retort. He shot a glance at Myrddin, who was resolutely staring at the glimmering words on the wall, his expression carefully blank.
“Mr. Potter!” Umbridge trilled dangerously. “Was this your doing?”
Harry took a deep breath. “No, it wasn’t. I was as surprised as everyone else.”
Umbridge smirked. “Do you really expect me to believe that, Mr. Potter, after the manner in which you have been misbehaving? Tell me how to end the spell, and you’ll only be in detention for a week rather than the next month.”
“Professor, I didn’t do it,” Harry protested.
“He couldn’t have,” said Hermione. “That’s really ancient magic.”
“And how would you know that, Miss Granger?” asked Umbridge.
Hermione straightened slightly in her chair and a hint of steel gleamed in her eye. “It’s in A History of Magic. Only certain, ancient spells allow someone to use the name of Emrys. As Merlin’s druidic name, it has an inherent magic all it’s own. You have to have a certain kind of magic to invoke it.”
“Miss Granger, you are hardly an expert on ancient magic. You would do well to hold your tongue.”
This is not the time, Myrddin’s voice warned in Harry’s head before Harry could even begin to formulate a retort for Hermione’s defense. She’s already looking to put you in detention for something you haven’t done. Don’t give her an actual reason.
How is he doing that? Harry demanded to himself.
Myrddin chuckled. It’s a druidic gift, communicating with one’s mind. I would not normally have done so without your consent, but I saw no other way to keep you out of detention.
She’s going to give me detention anyway.
As if to prove that very point, Umbridge smiled down at Harry. “Do you really want a month’s worth of detention, Mr. Potter? One would hope that you would have better uses of your time. However, if this is the only way to discourage you from such vandalism…” She trailed off sadly and turned back toward the front of the room.
Harry shot a glare at Myrddin. The druid had his head ducked and his lips were moving soundlessly. Parvati suddenly gasped. Harry looked up.
Words of the same glimmering gold were appearing below the first message. Do not blame the innocent for that which you refuse to believe, they read. Punish any for this warning, and my wrath will be swift. Harry glanced back to Myrddin, who was now smirking rather smugly. Harry could swear that he saw a hint of gold in Myrddin’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.
Umbridge rounded on Harry. “Mr. Potter! Cease this at once or I shall see you expelled for-“
“That won’t be necessary, Dolores.”
As one, the class looked up to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the doorway. He seemed perfectly relaxed and was gazing curiously at the two messages etched into the stone.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Umbridge said with an air of forced calm, a simpering smile pasted to her lips. “Surely some disciplinary action must be taken? Mr. Potter is, after all, threatening a teacher and a ministry official.”
Dumbledore smiled serenely. “What makes you think this is the work of Mr. Potter?”
“Who else could it be? He has already received detention for disrupting class.”
“Ah, but this could not have been done by any student. In fact,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled slightly as he continued, “I could not perform such magic upon Hogwarts.”
Umbridge’s jaw dropped as did the jaws of most of the students in the room. Harry glanced at Myrddin. Was he really more powerful that Dumbledore?
“Then who could it possibly be?”
“That is the question, is it not?” Dumbledore asked merrily. “This magic was thought lost long ago. I would think that perhaps Hogwarts herself is warning us. It is said that the Founders poured their very souls into the foundations of the school. But that is mere speculation, of course. One would hope that no teacher would dare perform acts heinous enough to warrant that sort of intervention.”
“Of course not, Headmaster,” Umbridge fluttered. Ron quickly turned a disbelieving snort into a hacking cough.
“Very good,” smiled Dumbledore. “I think, given the circumstances, the Defense shall be cancelled until something can be done or until a new classroom can be arranged. You are dismissed.”
In the chaos that was every racing simultaneously for the door, it did not escape Harry that Dumbledore still refused to look at him, but that the headmaster did give Myrddin a hard, calculating look that Myrddin returned without even flinching. There was something challenging in Myrddin’s gaze, something that almost screamed “if you’re not going to do something, then I will” and it made Harry wonder just how much Myrddin knew about everything that was going on.
Author’s Note: *Peeks out from behind desk, waving white flag sheepishly* So….I’m back??? And yes, those question marks are supposed to be there. I’m really sorry for the epic delay. I had finals, and then I had to move out of my dorm. I had to drive literally half way across the country alone to get home. Then I had to move into my room because my family moved while I was at school so that actually meant moving in. On top of all of that my sister graduated, so it’s been an ongoing ordeal. I haven’t had the time or the energy to write more than a few paragraphs at a time.
Thing is, this is probably not going to change. I am on the brink of setting up a job that will not only pay well (I hope) but all require copious amounts of writing and research. I’ll also be getting another part time job. My free time is going to decease drastically. I have so much on my plate right now, so many things that I need to do, and so many stories that need written, I honestly can’t say what will get attention when. Updates may be painfully slow, but the will come. I apologize now for any inconvenience.
Also, I’m putting A Ripple in Destiny on hold. I’ve heard that fics of that nature are being deleted, so I want to wait and see if that’s going to continue to be the case. It’s also turning out to be one of my more difficult projects. The character commentary is just not up to par, no matter what I do.
Last, but not least, I had a reviewer point out that my Arthurian legend was a bit off. I don’t pretend to be an expert or to have done too much research, but I do want to explain a few things. Historians think that if there was a King Arthur he lived somewhere around fifteen hundred years ago. However, the first tales we know as Arthurian legend didn’t start appearing until about five hundred years later. For simplicity’s sake, I decided that Arthur and Merlin lived twelve hundred years ago. This way, they definitely lived before Hogwarts was founded and I’m not pledging myself to either story line. I think I’ve said this before, but there are certain elements of myth that I’ll be pulling into this fic. I’ll try to remember to explain as I go.
Thanks for you patience and sorry for rambling.
Next: Chapter 11