Harry Potter and the Return of Merlin: Chapter 11 (12/?)
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 - all seasons. I have now watched Season 4, so it’s fair game as well. You have been warned.
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: The moment Voldemort regained his body, the Old Religion cried out. For the first time in more than a thousand years, Merlin is called from the forward to right the balance once more. Disguised as a fifth year student, he must fight to stop Voldemort when it is not his destiny to do so.
Previous: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10
Author’s Note: I want to thank everyone for their support and I want to clear up a few things. First, I’m not going to but this fic on hold. I just meant that my time to write is going to be drastically cut down. It’s taken longer than anticipated to get the job started, so I’ve had more time the last few weeks than I thought. The job I have is going to require a lot of writing and research. It’s going to be time consuming and exhausting. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop working on this fic. Second, “fics of this nature” are breaking the fourth wall fics. Stories where they characters read the books or watch the show. A lot of my favorite breaking the fourth wall fics from the HP fandom are being deleted, as are M rated fics. The latter to anything I’m currently working on and my M rated fics are backed. Breaking the fourth wall fics aren’t popular in the Merlin fandom, but I’d like to wait until this blows over a bit before I work on it, if it means getting it deleted.
While I’m on the topic, if anyone knows someone or has themselves written fic versions of the episodes or even if they’re interested in trying, I’d greatly appreciate the help with A Ripple in Destiny. I’m running into issues getting the episodes written in a way that satisfies me. I’m getting so frustrated wit that that I can’t get the commentary written. If someone would like to cowrite with me, I’d love the help.
Sorry for the massive AN. This chapter is NOT beta’d because I’m too impatient to wait after how long the last one took to get out. On to the fic!
Chapter 11
It was quite possible that the disappointed look Dumbledore was currently giving Merlin was meant to have him squirming in his boots. Fortunately for the warlock in question, the headmaster had absolutely nothing on Gaius.
“Kilgharrah was under the impression you wished to speak to me,” Merlin said calmly. He was leaning back comfortably in the chair opposite Dumbledore’s desk, the very picture of ease.
“Indeed. Your display in Professor Umbridge’s classroom was rather alarming. Exactly what were you hoping to gain?”
Merlin arched an eyebrow. “I would think it was obvious.”
“Unfortunately not,” Dumbledore replied, smiling serenely. “Perhaps you could enlighten an old man.”
“Considering that of the two of us, I am the old man in all but appearance, that statement is rather misleading, but I’ll do my best.” Merlin abruptly sat up and leaned forward. “It seems to me that the one person in this school who has the ability to curb Madam Umbridge’s power has done nothing.”
“I am in a very delicate position, which I’m sure you can understand,” said Dumbledore mildly. “If I cross Madam Umbridge too much the ministry will take control of the school. I believe we can both agree that that would not be beneficial for anyone.”
“You are the headmaster of this school,” Merlin hissed. He was rapidly becoming frustrated with what he considered excuses. “If memory serves me, Hogwarts is not under the authority of the ministry. It is meant to be separate so that it can remain unaffected by politics. That was of particular importance to the Founders as there was quite a lot of upheaval during their lives.”
“Regardless of whether the ministry is supposed to have authority over the school, it is an unavoidable fact that they do.”
“That does not change the fact that you should be doing something! Or are you really so oblivious to what that woman is doing?”
Dumbledore frowned. “I know exactly what it is that she is doing. I cannot oppose her without risking the school. Many parents take the ministry very seriously. If I were to even more publically oppose Cornelius or Madam Umbridge, it is quite likely we would lose students and they are far safer here.”
“I am not asking you to oppose the ministry. I am asking you to look out for the safety of the students.”
“Am I to understand, then, that your belief that I am doing nothing is what led you to act?”
Merlin nodded and leaned back once more. He forced himself to take a deep breath before speaking. “Disregarding the fact that as a person I can’t stand by and do nothing while someone like her deliberately terrorizes the students, as a warlock of the Old Religion, I am compelled to act because this directly threatens the balance of magic.”
Dumbledore actually looked taken aback by that. “What do you mean?”
It was a moment before Merlin answered. He hadn’t actually meant to say that, but now that he did, it made sense and explained his need to do something. It was also the perfect way to explain his actions without betraying Harry’s trust. Technically he could simply mention his own detention, but the headmaster had to know that he’d had that detention with Harry. The boy’s trust in him was tenuous enough without trying to walk that line.
“To answer that, I must start at the beginning, over a thousand years ago,” he said slowly. “It’s a relatively long tale, if you wish to hear it. Or I can attempt to give you an abridged version if you prefer.”
“I have the time,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling slightly even as his gaze was grave. “One cannot pass up an opportunity to learn, no matter what their age, and this is a rare opportunity.”
Merlin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Very well. You know, of course, that magic is all about balance. What you may not know is that the balance is constantly shifting. It is rarely ever perfect. Things happen every day to tip it one way or another. The balance simply rights itself and the world moves on. Until it doesn’t.”
He paused and took a deep breath to calm himself. “Uther did something that disrupted the balance of life and death. To this day, I am not sure if he knew that and simply didn’t care or if somehow he thought that he would not be affected by the repercussions, but he was. His wife was taken from him and he blamed magic. He sought to destroy all magic. We called it the Great Purge. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of sorcerers were killed. Many were innocents who’d never used their power for selfish gain or evil intent. A lot of magic left the world when that happened. The balance between magic and mortal was destroyed. It was a dark time for all. Uther ruled with an iron fist. He was cold and calculating. He was a strong king who defended his kingdom, but he cared little for his people. Magic was leaving the land because of the Purge. He even destroyed all save one of the dragons. He considered it a victory. He was wrong.”
“Of course,” Dumbledore nodded. “Magic is an integral part of nature. Without it, the world cannot run as it is meant to. I would assume that the crops were less fertile, the weather less inviting, and so forth.”
“Exactly. The Purge had horrible effects on Camelot that Uther wouldn’t allow himself to see. Arthur spent a good deal of his early reign trying to fix it.”
“I would think so.”
Clearing his throat, Merlin continued on with his story. “The Purge never truly ended. Uther persecuted magic his whole life and taught Arthur to do the same. Sometimes I think it’s a bloody miracle that I managed to get through to that prat and that he turned out to be such a great king, but that’s beside the point. There came a time, about three years after the beginning of the Purge, that most of those with magic had fled Camelot. Uther no longer raided the forest for Druid camps and there were no longer executions every day in the courtyard. Historically, this is when the Purge ended. This is also when magic chose to act.”
A fond smile stretched across Dumbledore’s face. “Of course. Few today understand that magic is alive in a way. We merely tame it. This is, of course, why there are such dire repercussions to using it irresponsibly.”
“Of course,” said Merlin dryly. “After the Purge, the Old Religion sought to reestablish the balance of magic. All of that power that had left the world upon the deaths of so many men had to find its way back. And it did. Every single ounce of it, and more, was reborn in me.
“It gave me a destiny,” he continued quickly, not giving Dumbledore enough time to concentrate. “For years I thought that destiny was simply to protect and guide Arthur. It wasn’t until his time was nearing an end that Kilgharrah informed me of the circumstance of my birth and what price my magic came with. The Old Religion ensured that it was impossible for the balance of magic to be so broken again. So long as I walk the earth so does the Old Religion and the balance remains. Therefore, I cannot die until Old Magic permanently returns. At least, I hope that is the case.”
Merlin leaned forward. He placed his elbows on his knees and stared intently at Dumbledore. “I do not tell you this to boast of my power or my place in destiny. I’d give it away if I could. Immortality is vastly overrated. I tell you this so that you might understand what can happen when the balance between two primal forces of nature is broken. The balance between life and death is now badly strained because of Voldemort’s quest for power and immortality.”
“But what has this to do with Madam Umbridge?” asked Dumbledore.
“Everything that is done because of Voldemort further effects the balance,” Merlin snapped. He was beginning to grow impatient with the headmaster. “Every death at his hand, every life that is saved because we do something, every day that he lives when he should not. Umbridge is deliberately refusing to teach the students the skills they need to survive because she and the minister somehow think this will convince everyone that Voldemort isn’t back. Ignoring the situation is only worsening it. If Umbridge continues teaching as she is, then the students will be vulnerable and every one of them that dies, even if it is a complete and utter accident, will further tip the balance that Voldemort first upset. And,” he added, leaning further toward Dumbledore, “if she continues to discredit Harry then this battle will stretch on. He will be unprepared and delayed. Who knows what may happen. The balance is in grave danger, and it is my duty to do everything I can to right it.”
Silence hung between them for a long moment. Merlin sat back in his chair. Dumbledore pressed his fingertips together in deep thought. “That is grave, indeed,” said the headmaster. “I hadn’t realized.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Merlin sighed. “The ways of the Old Religion have been long forgotten and even at its height, few understood just how intrinsically our lives are linked to magic or how much the balance of nature affects us. It’s pure luck that I know as much as I do.”
“And this is why you took action?”
Merlin nodded. “For the most part, yes. It’s what has allowed me to step forward now without tipping the balance myself. If I’d only wanted to cause trouble, I would have been more discreet. Even it she doesn’t truly understand my warning, I want Umbridge to have some concept of what exactly it is that she is doing.”
“Of course,” agreed Dumbledore. “I must admit, however, that I still do not understand why you chose to reveal that there is a druid in the school.”
This was worse than trying to explain something to Gwaine when he was drunk. “By what other means can I act?” he asked. “I am bound by the same fate that sent me here to remain in the shadows until something shifts. What even I don’t know, but that’s the way it is. I can’t challenge that toad as a student or as a warlock, especially not as Merlin. However, nothing can change the fact that I have the rights of a Druid.”
“You mean you are not one?” interrupted Dumbledore.
Merlin smiled tiredly. “No. My personal views never quite coincided with theirs and my destiny with Arthur ensured that I had to be more involved in the matters of mere mortals than they normally were. That said, I am well versed in their customs and way because I was essentially their leader. That is what gives me the right to invoke the name of Emrys as a warning. Well,” he grinned slightly, “that and the fact that it is actually my name. It serves the dual purpose of giving Umbridge a fright and warning her of just who she is angering.”
“You said yourself that the warning would mean nothing to her.”
Merlin had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Am I wrong in guessing that she’s already insisted on having someone from the ministry come to investigate?”
“You are not,” said Dumbledore.
“If they aren’t completely incompetent, they should be able to recognize the signs of druidic magic and if they don’t, I’ll make sure that they do.”
The eyebrow rose again. “How do you propose to do that?”
“I daresay I’ll figure it out. I’ve not gone completely unnoticed in the past twelve centuries, you know.”
Dumbledore seemed to sigh resignedly without actually sighing. “I suppose then that I can anticipate further action against Madam Umbridge on your part? You were the one responsible for her unfortunate condition earlier this year, were you not?”
Merlin smirked at that. “A little harmless fun never did anyone ill. Madam Umbridge’s condition both lightened the atmosphere and gained me some credibility with the other students.”
The headmaster’s eyes twinkled, even as he continued to look rather disapproving. “So long as your fun remains harmless, I see no reason to stop you. I believe even Severus found that amusing. I must also ask that you refrain from revealing anything further to Harry. He is not ready.”
“You underestimate him,” Merlin growled. “I’ve said it before, and I will say it again. Not only can Harry handle the knowledge you are keeping from him, but he deserves to know. This is his life we’re talking about. If you would cease to protect him, you might just how much harm this forced ignorance is doing him.”
“I have Harry’s best interests at heart.”
“Gaius had mine at heart when he told me not to reveal my magic to Morgana. Look how that ended. She went mad and almost destroyed Camelot.”
“The two situations are vastly different.”
Merlin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I do not pretend to know everything. In fact, I’m sure that there is much about all of this that I don’t know. You may well know something I don’t and maybe it’s enough to convince you that I have no idea what I’m talking about. I think you’re forgetting just what Harry has been through. I think you’re forgetting that he has some idea of what is at stake. I think you’re making a mistake.”
A long silence stretched between them. Eventually, Merlin stood. “For what it’s worth, I will respect your decision as long as I can. The moment this silence threatens the balance is the moment I tell Harry.”
Dumbledore met Merlin’s gaze and nodded. “I would expect nothing less.”
“In that case, I should be going. I have another meeting to attend and I’d best hurry or he’ll invade the Fat Lady’s portrait again.”
The twinkle returned to Dumbledore’s eyes. “Then I’ll not keep you. Good night, Merlin.”
Merlin bowed slightly and left the room.
The walk to the North Tower was relatively short. Merlin ducked out of sight whenever he heard someone coming. It wasn’t after hours just yet, but no one went up to the North Tower unless they absolutely had to. Sir Cadogan and the divination classroom were two things students tended to avoid at all costs. The last thing he needed was an audience for this conversation.
It was no surprise that Arthur was waiting for him. The king was leaning against the side of his portrait, arms crossed over his thick chest, scowling darkly. His frown darkened when he saw Merlin. The warlock had to fight not to laugh. An angry Sir Cadogan was not all that intimidating.
“What took you so long?” Arthur demanded.
Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’m pretending to be a student, you twit. I had classes until about an hour ago and then the headmaster wanted to speak to me.”
“Causing trouble already, Merlin? You’ve been here for a few days, maybe?”
“A couple of weeks, actually.”
Arthur scoffed. “That’s impossible. I spoke to you just three days ago and you were at the blasted tower messing around with your trinkets. Or have you forgotten our argument already? I thought that was why you did this,” he gestured to his rotund appearance, “in the first place.”
Sighing, Merlin leaned against the wall opposite Arthur’s painting and said quietly, “Arthur, we had that argument nearly three hundred years ago.”
“I think I’d know if three hundred years had passed. That is difficult to miss.” The king glared at him. “You’re just messing with my head to get revenge for what I said, which I don’t take back, by the way.”
“You wouldn’t remember anything if you’d been under a confundus charm the entire time,” Merlin pointed out. “I spent the past three centuries thinking you absolutely hated me when you actually had no memory of me, or anything for that matter.”
Beginning to look truly frustrated, Arthur stalked forward until he was as close to the edge of his portrait as he could get. “Stop playing games, Merlin, and admit that you did something to me because you wanted to get back at me. You’re nine hundred years old. Isn’t it about time you grew up?”
“Have you taken the time to look around you, Arthur? Have you noticed the way the students have changed?” Merlin demanded. “Have you noticed that their robes are different? That their manner of speaking is different? Have you noticed that your bloody portrait isn’t even in the same hall? Why do you think everyone has been calling you Sir Cadogan? That’s who’ve been for the past three hundred blasted years!”
Arthur glared at him, but Merlin could see that the king was beginning to believe him. “Assuming that all of this is true, what happened to make me look like this if it wasn’t you?”
“From what I can tell, you either caught a ricochet from a duel between two students or, for some reason, you were purposefully cursed. I would guess the former due to the spells that were used. However it happened, you spent the past three centuries under the influences of a bloating charm and a confundus charm, convinced that you were someone called Sir Cadogan. They were both badly cast, which explains why you completely forgot everything instead of being a bit disoriented for a few hours.”
“And why did it take you three hundred years to discover this?” the king asked dangerously.
Merlin glared at his old friend. “What is the last thing you remember, sire?”
The use of the honorific made Arthur flinch. Almost all formality between the two had disappeared before Arthur died. In the centuries that had followed, any semblance of decorum between them had vanished entirely. When Merlin used any of Arthur’s titles without some hint of sarcasm it usually meant that he was really, really annoyed.
Arthur took a deep breath to calm himself before answering. “We were fighting about the fact that you were doing absolutely nothing, once again. I got tired of listening to your endless reasons for why you couldn’t act and walked away.”
“What else?”
The king blanched as he remembered. “I told you not to bother speaking to me until you decided to get off your arse and do something with all your power.” He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Bloody hell. You thought I was ignoring you.”
It wasn’t a question, but Merlin answered anyway. “That was the worst fight we’d had in centuries, Arthur, and everything you said was true on some level. What was I supposed to think?”
“I don’t know,” Arthur sighed. “I really don’t. As much I want to blame you for not having a bit more faith in our friendship, I really can’t blame you. I said some things that I am not proud of.”
Merlin smiled humorlessly. “We both did and it made me hesitant. I thought…I honestly thought that we might have gone too far that time. When I finally began to realize that something might be wrong, I was so annoyed by the lack of response and still so angry about what had happened that I couldn’t bring myself to actually come here. I’m ashamed to admit that I did loose some faith in us. It made me feel as though one of the few constants in my life was no longer in my control. The years have not been kind, I’m afraid,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.
Arthur nodded in agreement. “I would say that is true for both of us. This may be one of the most bizarre situations we’ve ever been in. I know that time has passed, but I still feel as if it has only been a few days since we last spoke.”
“If you need time, I can give it to you,” Merlin offered. “But first, you must know what has happened in the pas few decades.”
“Can you take this spell off me first?” Arthur very nearly whined.
Merlin grimaced. “I really can’t. I’d like to, but I can’t. I have to do everything I can to remain more or less unnoticed. No one can know that I am Merlin. If Arthur Pendragon shows up in the school, especially after that display this morning, someone could figure out who I am.”
“You are being deliberately cruel,” said the king, glaring at Merlin without heat. “I suppose you’d better catch me up then.”
Conjuring a chair, Merlin made himself comfortable and began his tale.
For the better part of the next hour and a half, Merlin recounted all that had happened in the past three hundred years. He glossed over quite a bit just to give Arthur context before going into agonizing detail when he reached Tom Riddle’s days at Hogwarts. He told Arthur everything that he had seen and learned after the fact. He even described his own mistakes and oversights. It was a painful process for Merlin, who’d spent many night berating himself for doing nothing.
“That’s why I’m here,” he finally said. “The whole situation has finally become so dire that I won’t be the one throwing the balance into chaos if I act. I’ll be the one righting it. Again.”
“You know, I’ve never understood how you can throw off the balance if magic is the reason you’re still here in the first place,” Arthur said tiredly. He was slumped against the edge of the portrait as if it was the only thing keeping him standing. The information had hit him hard, as it always did when there was strife in his kingdom.
“There’s more than one balance,” explained Merlin for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re thinking about the balance between life and death and you’re right on that count. I can’t die. I’m not quite mortal, so I’m not throwing anything off by living. However, I am still technically a being of the past. If I effect the present too much then I risk upsetting the balance between past, present, and future.”
Arthur waved off his explanation. “It still doesn’t make sense to me and it never will, so just save your breath. I’m just glad you can actually do something for once.”
A sad smile spread across Merlin’s face. “You aren’t the only one, but in so many ways it’s like Camelot all over again. I’m hiding who I am again, I don’t know all the facts, and I’m left reacting to everything instead of being proactive. I feel like I’m fighting a loosing battle, Arthur.”
“You aren’t,” Arthur said bluntly. “You’re already making a difference just by being here and it sounds to me as though you’ve done quite a bit to get Harry, Ron, and Hermione involved in what’s going on. Which is not to mention that you’re trying to do something about this toad woman. At this point, you just have to let it play out.”
“I’ve never been got at that,” Merlin grumbled.
Arthur chuckled. “You did a good job waiting for me to get my hear of my arse.”
“You could have left long before I straightened out,” Arthur pointed out softly.
That realization had saved their friendship all those years ago. When he’d found out about Merlin’s magic, Arthur had been furious and incredibly hurt that Merlin had lied to him for so long. For days it had seemed like the end of their friendship. It hadn’t been until Gwaine, of all people, made an “offhanded” comment during training, pointing out that Merlin must be incredibly loyal to have stayed in Camelot for so long. When everyone had stared at him with varying degrees of incredulity and confusion, he’d gone on to remind everyone that Merlin had stayed by Arthur’s side for all the years that the king had denounced magic and had never once walked away. He’d fought for Arthur and Camelot with as much courage as any of the knights despite how much it must have hurt to have his closest friend hate everything that he was.
Arthur had called an end to training. He’d spent hours tearing apart his memories of his every adventure with Merlin. In the end, he had sought Merlin out that very night, cuffed him round the head, called him an idiot and told him he was fired. Arthur had let Merlin splutter indignantly for a moment before announcing that he was promoting Merlin to court sorcerer.
Merlin shrugged. “Well, you know. Destiny and all that. Didn’t have much choice, did I?”
They both knew that wasn’t at all true. If it had been, they never would have been friends.
“Do you even have a plan?” Arthur asked abruptly.
“Sort of,” said Merlin. “At the moment I’m focusing on Umbridge. I need to find a way to distribute the bands I’ve been making to anyone who’s had detention with her. Fred and George might be able to help with that. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are looking to start a defense club so that they can actually learn something and they’ve asked me to be involved. I might even teach them a bit of Old Magic.”
“I suppose you can’t do much to keep Voldemort from getting to the prophecy in the Ministry of Magic,” Arthur mused. He began pacing the length of his portrait. “This Dumbledore person seems to have a specific idea of what to do about that from what you’ve said. You might be Melrin, but you can’t afford to alienate a potential ally.”
“Exactly,” Merlin agreed.
“And you’d doing everything can to ensure that Harry doesn’t loose his godfather as well, correct?”
Merlin nodded. “That’s one of my priorities. It was one of the first things I saw when I looked into the crystal. I didn’t seem them together much this summer, but from what I did see and from the way they speak about one another, it’s clear that they are both very important to one another. Sirius is the close thing Harry has to a father.”
Arthur looked up sharply when Merlin mentioned that, but didn’t comment on it. “Have they spoken at all since the incident in the fireplace?”
“Not that I know of, but I don’t want to push too much. They barely trust me as it is.”
“Maybe the druid could do something?”
“Harry knows I’m a druid. If I play that card too much Harry might realize that I’m manipulating events, I could loose any trust he has in me.”
“That would not be good, but a warning from Sirius might be the only way to get Harry to really understand what a threat Umbridge is. From the sound of it, you’ve barely convinced him not to fight back when she baits him.”
“I suppose that’s a risk I’ll have to take when the time comes. For now, it might be enough for Myrddin to ask if something’s wrong. Harry has looked rather stressed lately. Why are you still pacing?”
“Because I feel bloody useless!” Arthur snapped. “It’s not as though I can actually do anything!”
“You mean besides offering me very good advice that I never would have thought of because I’m not a tactician and being a voice of wisdom when I need it?” Merlin asked dryly.
“Don’t sell yourself short, you idiot. You’d have thought of it eventually.”
“Whatever you say, prat. Walk into the next portrait and say ic tredde gesawen. ”
Arthur stopped short. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
Shooting Merlin a wary look, Arthur did as he was asked. The neighboring portrait, a simple landscape remained empty. Merlin started to grin.
“You look like a simpleton,” said Arthur’s voice from the landscape.
Merlin shrugged. “You would know, wouldn’t you? Now I need you to say ic beo gesiene.”
The king grumbled under his breath, but repeated the spell. The painting rippled slightly and Arthur appeared in the middle of the landscape.
“Care to explain what that was all about it?”
“I was testing a theory.”
“What theory?”
“Whether or not you can perform simple magic.”
Arthur blinked. “We tried that ages ago.”
“We tried that before you died.”
“Doesn’t it follow that if I couldn’t use magic while I was alive that I can’t use while I’m dead?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Damn it, Merlin. Give me a straight answer!”
“A magical painting is made by capturing someone’s memories, right?”
Arthur nodded, which Merlin took as a signal to continue. “Well, yours is a bit different because, while you are dead, you’re still sort of alive.”
“Merlin, if you don’t start explaining, I will find a way to put you in the stocks.”
“You’ve been threatening that for twelve hundred years,” Merlin said dismissively. “Now shut up. I’m getting there. Because of all that once and future king business you’re still bound to the world sort of like I am.”
“Then why aren’t I alive the way you are?”
“Because I have to be here as part of the balance of magic. Kilgharrah once told me that I’m magic incarnate. My presence in the world is essential to keeping magic, specifically the Old religion, in balance. Yours is too, but in a different way. You, specifically, help balance me out. At least, I think that what Kilgharrah meant. What’s important is that you’re not completely dead. The dead don’t return. You and everyone directly connected to use and our destiny are waiting to return. You’re in a sort of limbo between life and death.”
“Right,” Arthur said impatiently when Merlin paused to breathe. “That all makes sense and I’m pretty sure you’ve told it to my before. What does this have to do with my being able to do magic while I’m a bloody portrait?”
“Everything! See you’re not just the memories of King Arthur like any other painting is. You’re the magical manifestation of his consciousness. Right now, you are basically made of magic. I think the roll magic had in your birth might have an effect as well.”
Arthur still looked confused. “And somehow all of this means that I can use magic myself?”
“Only to effect yourself,” Merlin explained. “So you can use a simple invisibility spell such as the one I had you try to move unseen through Hogwarts.”
“And why exactly would I want to do that?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because it would be really useful if someone could follow Umbridge without the risk of being thrown in detention. Only you can’t get caught because I’m sure the story about this morning has spread already.”
Whatever retort Arthur had thought up died on his tongue. He stared at Merlin, who was grinning broadly, for a moment before shaking himself and narrowing his eyes at the warlock.
“If I can be invisible, then why can’t you turn me back into myself?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Because then we’d have to find a way to explain why Sir Cadogan has suddenly disappeared. You can’t follow Umbridge all the time anyway. Dollophead.”
“Still using those juvenile insults, Merlin? One would have thought you would have gotten new material after twelve hundred years.”
“Yeah, but these are classics.”
“No, they’re pathetic.”
“Whatever you say. I actually need to go or I’ll be caught out after curfew. I have the other painting with me, so if anything happens send me a message. I’ll check before I go to sleep.”
“You do remember that I’m the king and the one who should be given orders, yes?” Arthur teased lightly.
“Of course, sire, but when did I ever follow the rules.”
“Rarely, which is why you were such a bloody awful servant.”
“I did give it my very best.”
“If that was your very best, I think the world has cause to be frightened.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes. “I’d be careful if I were you, Arthur. Just think of all the spells I can cast on your portrait.”
“You wouldn’t,” Arthur growled.
Merlin just shrugged and took off down the hall, ignoring the familiar shouting of his name from behind him.
The common room had almost completely emptied and Ron was having trouble ignoring Hermione’s disapproving glances toward his unfinished potions essay by the time Myrddin returned. He looked happier than Harry had ever seen him. There was a lightness in his step that suggested weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“How was your meeting with Dumbledore?” Ron asked when Myrddin sat down. “Did you get into any trouble?”
“Of course not,” Myrddin said. “I told you. I couldn’t get into any trouble for this. It’s well within my rights as a druid to stand up to the toad. He just warned me not to take it too far. Sort of pointless, really. I wasn’t planning to get violent or anything like that.”
“Maybe,” said Hermione quietly. “But Umbridge might.”
“I’ll just have to tread carefully then.”
“What does using Merlin’s druid name mean, anyway?” asked Harry. This had been bothering him all day. Myrddin had been so nonchalant about it that morning in class, but it had to mean something. Merlin had been one of the most powerful sorcerers to ever live. Surely using his name wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
Hermione leaned forward eagerly. “Yes, I was wondering about that, too.”
Myrddin shrugged. “It supposed to mean a lot of things, but I’m not sure that it does. A thousand years ago using Emrys’ name was a claim to have some connection to him, usually as a pupil. I’ve read that the ability to conjure his name and the symbol of the Old Religion in tandem was an indication of power, but I don’t think that’s true.”
“So it really doesn’t mean anything?” asked Hermione.
“I suppose not,” he said. “Though, there are some that say you can’t lie if you’re swearing by Emrys’ name. No one really knows. I just used it because it’s undeniably druidic.”
“It would be funny if Umbridge actually thought Merlin was after her,” said Ron with a grin.
“From what I know of him, he would have been,” Myrddin said, grinning as well.
Hermione did see the humor. “What are you going to do now? She’ll be looking for you.”
“They’ll never trace it back to me,” Myrddin assured her. “Druidic magic is different than what you use. There’s a reason the ministry didn’t know I was in the alley when they tried to railroad Harry at the trial over the summer.”
“I knew you did something to that dementor!” Harry glared at Myrddin. “There was no way that could be a patronus.”
Myrddin looked a bit sheepish. “I meant to tell you that. I couldn’t remember the patronus charm so I tried something I read in my old spell book. I wasn’t even sure it would work, but I thought it might distract the dementor long enough for you to find your wand.”
“You could have been killed!” Hermione gasped, looking between Harry and Myrddin worried.
“No, we would have lost our souls, but we still would have been alive,” Harry reminded her.
Hermione glared at him.
“I had to do something,” said Myrddin gently. “Even if it didn’t work, I’d have never forgiven myself if I didn’t try.”
His words seemed to have little effect on Hermione, who was shaken by just how close her two friends, even if Myrddin had only recently earned that title, had come to dying.
“Just how powerful are you?” asked Ron in a clear attempt to change the topic.
Myrddin frowned slightly. “What?”
“You said that using Merlin’s druid name was a sign of power. So how powerful are you?”
“Destroying the dementor must have needed a great deal of magic,” added Hermione in a small voice.
Harry nodded. “And you healed your hand without a spell.”
Looking distinctly uncomfortable with their line of questions, Myrddin shifted his weight and shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, people say that using Merlin’s druid name is a sign of power, but there’s no proof of that and there aren’t that many others to measure against. I think I’m pretty much average, but I could be wrong.”
“So you don’t know,” Ron surmised doubtfully.
“Pretty much. Do you guys know where Kilgharrah is?” he asked.
“He went upstairs about an hour ago,” Harry said absently, already preoccupied with what Myrddin had said.
“I guess I’d better head up.” Myrddin suppressed a yawn. “I’ll see you lot in the morning.”
They all chorused goodnight and Harry watched him disappear up the stairs to the dormitory.
“He’s still not telling us something, isn’t he?” said Ron the moment he heard the dormitory door close.
Hermione nodded. “I’ve read a lot about the druids since he told us and I’ve never heard anything about using Merlin’s name like that. Those words were actually carved into the stone. It would take an immense amount of power to alter Hogwarts like that.”
“I wonder what he was doing in the North Tower,” Harry muttered. They’d begun to get worried about an hour before Myrddin had returned to the common room and had checked the Marauders map. “He was just standing there.”
“Maybe he was thinking?” suggested Ron doubtfully.
“Did you see the way his name was flickering?” Harry continued. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I suppose the charms could be wearing off. The map is probably twenty years old,” Hermione added quickly when Harry turned to glare at her. “No matter how clever they were in creating it, the spells could be getting old. You should ask Snuffles. He might know what it means.”
“Myrddin might know a way for you to talk to him safely,” said Ron. “He probably won’t ask too many questions.”
“I’ll think about it,” Harry muttered.
“It’s just, there’s so much that doesn’t quite add up,” Hermione burst out. “He seems quite a bit more powerful than he lets on. He was vague when he told us he’s a druid, which is a really good explanation for why he’s so secretive when you think about it, and did you notice what he said about how old he is? He’d have to be closer to thirty or even forty to have waited decades for his friend to change his mind about magic. What could he possibly be hiding?”
“I dunno, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person,” Ron pointed out. “Look at what’s he done to Umbridge and he has Dumbledore’s trust.”
“So does Snape,” said Harry.
“Point, but Myrddin doesn’t make me dream about drowning him in my cauldron. Snape does. He may be secretive, but he hasn’t actually done anything to give us any reason to think he’s-“
“This is pointless,” interrupted Hermione.
“Thanks,” Ron grumbled.
She immediately looked apologetic. “I don’t mean you, Ron. I mean this whole argument. We’ve been having it ever since he showed up at headquarters this summer, and we’ve gotten nowhere. All we can do is keep a close eye on him and be ready if something does happen. Talking about it is accomplishing nothing. Have you thought about the defense group?” she asked, spinning round to face Harry.
“A little,” he admitted. “I’m still not sure it would be a good idea.”
“I think you’re wrong. We could learn loads from you, Harry, but it’s your choice. Just remember that a lot of lives could depend on whether or not you help us. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“That was low,” Ron muttered, also rising to leave.
Harry nodded. “She gets better and better at that.”
“She has a point, though,” he said over his shoulder. “You’re the only one who’s fought him and you mastered all those spells for the third task faster than Hermione could have.”
“You’re mental,” said Harry weakly.
Ron grinned. “Mate, I knew that first year when I followed you into the girl’s bathroom to fight a troll. G’night.”
Rubbing his temples, Harry dropped into one of the squashy armchairs in front of the fire. His head was spinning. He stared into the fire for a long time in a vain attempt to untangle his thoughts. So much didn’t quite make sense. All of Myrddin’s slips meant something, but he couldn’t figure out what. There was a reason Dumbledore refused to meet his eye, but Harry had no idea what it might mean. There was something to the idea of the defense club, but he was sure that he was the right person to teach it. Half the school thought he was a lunatic.
When he finally gave up and went upstairs, he was just as confused and frustrated as before.
Author’s Note: Just thought I’d explain something really quick. The reason it’s such a big deal that Merlin was able to alter the school is because the wards are technically supposed to prevent that. They’ve gotten weak with time, so it’s not quite as impressive an accomplishment as Hermione thinks it is, but it is still pretty impressive, mostly because he did use Old Magic.