Merlin Big Bang: Academy (Part Six)
~.~.~
For him, his family just ended. For them, they just took out the rubbish.
The DuLac family was a proud clan, who tore off the edges of their own fabric because it was not going to give them any worth anymore. They had tried, after all, and there was a part of him that admired them for holding out for so long. Lance was a handful and he knew it.
The other part knew that he’d been acting out -even more so since Elyan started school- because he wanted this to happen. He wanted to say goodbye to the tall stairs and secrets rooms and the big looming house but, most importantly, the occupants.
After sixteen long years, he was sure he wanted this. He hated his life of luxury if it meant getting there also meant trampling over Muggle-borns and half-breeds or everyone that was deemed unworthy of their time and attention. His girlfriend, for one, was one of those people his parents would stamp on and he hated it.
Lance never understood why they did the things they did. They made money and enemies and only loved among themselves -if that was considered love, at all. So, naturally, as any other teenager who’d been repressed is whole life, trying to contain his anger, frustration and countless other feelings that could fall closely under the category of rage, for a cause he never could save -a futile quest- he acted out.
Lance had acted out before, of course, what with the getting into trouble at school, coming home at all hours of the night. But none of these small rebellions was directly against their standing.
No, today, he yelled. He yelled and they yelled back. It was safe to say that this was the longest amount of time they communicated with each other. Sixteen years of rage came out in the form of heated words, words that explained how much he hated what they were doing, how it was unfair and how they were so selfish. What was wrong with Muggle-borns and everyone else that wasn’t them and what was so right about them?
“Look at us, Mother, our family members are joining You-Know-Who. Joining!” he yelled.
She looked at him like he just got run over by a car. “It is an honour to be chosen in an army, Lancelot.”
“Not this one!”
Because this one killed aimlessly and ran around saying they were better. And You-Know-Who, she was planning something big and whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good for either party. So he yelled until he couldn’t yell anymore, until the war was real and right in front of his face, until all he wanted he wanted to say had been said -loudly- and it all ended with his father looking down at him and saying, “Get out of this house.”
It was as if these were the words he’d waited for, for a long time. But it also felt as if they were the exact words he dreaded.
“Good riddance,” Elyan said as he entered Lance’s room. “I thought they’d never throw you out.”
“Happy, are you?” Lance huffed, his hands tightening the straps of his backpack.
“Delirious.”
Lance looked at him, his brother. When did he stop being his brother, his friend? When did he become a stranger to him? Gone was the boy who used to climb into his bed in the middle of the night, trying to find solace; gone was the small boy he used to love.
Some people grew up to change, he understood, but Lance couldn’t help but think that this change in Elyan wasn’t his choice.
“Do you ever think that maybe we could get along, Elyan?” Lance asked, sighing because it was no use at this point.
“No,” Elyan said decidedly. “Because I, unlike you, am not a ginormous prick.”
And that was that. There would be no heartfelt goodbyes or a lingering stare that might just change everything. Nothing. There was only movement and shuffling to the door and an exit.
For a moment, Lance was nothing. He was nothing but a man who had lost everything; his family, his standing, everything that could’ve defined him in later years. He was no one except for a homeless young man with nowhere to go.
Then he remembered. He always had somewhere to go.
He took the rest of the journey like a man possessed with the will to go on. He wished he could Apparate but he figured he was going to be a sixth year this time around, he’d learn. But, for now, he was going to have to resort to walking and bus-taking to his destination.
He made sure his wand was in his pocket, just in case, and his robes and whatnot for the Academy nicely packed into his bag and assured himself that all he needed to bring was on him. He needed to know because he was sure he was never going to go back to that wicked household.
Lance tapped on the door to the big house before him. When the door opened, he was mildly surprised to see the face he’d been waiting to see up in this hour of the morning -for Lance knew he just travelled the whole night with no stop.
Arthur looked him down, from his tired eyes that weren’t half as tired as he really was, to the clothes that were still wet from the previous bout of rain and his numerous bags on him. Then, the shock cleared and what replaced the expression was one of happiness, mixed with a little worry.
“So,” Lance said with a smile he was finding hard to come up with, “Any room for me, then?”
Arthur laughed and took some of the bags off of his hands. “Always, mate,” he said and pulled him in him for a big man hug that Lance was sure he was going to say later never happened.
Merlin Emrys had been kissed twice.
And both times, his head had come out reeling. Not in the good kind, either, the kind that made your head dizzy with love and all you wanted to do was kiss them again and again. But the kind that left him fidgeting and nervous about what the repercussions of said kiss were.
Both kisses, after they happened, were so awkward he could pretty much dig a hole and burrow himself in said hole so he’d never have to look at the other person in the eye ever again. Sure, he and Percy took a few months before they were comfortable with each other and that was fine but what of Arthur?
Arthur, who had weaselled his way into his life without him even giving any kind of consent; Arthur, who had already been part of his life before without him even knowing it; Arthur, who he was going to see, whether he liked it or not, on this train station.
He was going to have to live this down for the rest of his life -for that was how long he was going to spend with Arthur- and, god, he really wanted to find a shovel. Either to dig that hole or to hit Arthur with it because this was all his fault, anyway.
Merlin wanted to distract himself with something but there was nothing. This was the first time in five years that he was alone in the train station. Freya was no longer part of his life, after all. Part of him missed her but most of him despised her for saying what she said -because he knew she meant all of it, in all of the heat she said it in.
He figured he couldn’t be friends with someone who would grow up to hurt people like him. What was his bloodline supposed to do with anything, anyway? Just because his parents weren’t destined to be part of the wizarding world, didn’t mean he wasn’t.
He was good at what he did, with or without his wand and no amount of blood was going to define him. What was the point, anyway?
But Freya, she was gone into that realm of defining people just by how they were raised or who their family was. She was going to be with You-Know-Who, he just knew it.
Even with the kids, they were being split up. Into the groups who hated You-Know-Who’s cause and people who would die to defend it. Freya took her side and it was only right that Merlin would take his. As soon as they were out of the Academy, with as much experience and knowledge the school would provide, their choices would be real.
The war that the newspapers and the Ministry that was trying to hide from the eyes of the public -even though everyone knew everything already- would be real and they would have to fight. If he was going to fight against Freya, that would be fine, because you only fought against enemies, right?
“The train’s boarding, Merlin,” someone tapped him on his shoulder, interrupting his gaze. Gilli, a Hufflepuff, smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back because Gilli was one of people who always looked at the bright side of things.
Merlin, for a moment, wondered why they weren’t closer friends. “Sit with me on the train?” Merlin asked him.
“Sure,” Gilli nodded happily.
They climbed up the train and, almost immediately, Merlin was pushed to the side by another figure. The gentle shove was accompanied by a, “Hey, Emrys.”
Lance smirked at him as Gwen wrapped her arm around his. Morgana waved with a sort of evil smile -really, Merlin was kind of happy not all of her was broken because of Leon- while Arthur was radiant. If Merlin was colour-blind, if people to him were nothing but black and white, Arthur would be Technicolor.
He was beautiful -could he say beautiful about other boys? He wasn’t sure- and his smile, the most beautiful one he’s seen in a long time, was directed at him. Merlin knew -Merlin knew, Merlin knew it so hard, so well- that their kiss was never going to leave them. And he thought he was going to be okay with that.
“Hey, Merlin,” Arthur said. Merlin, Merlin thought, he called me Merlin.
“Hi, Arthur,” Merlin said back.
The look in Arthur’s eyes told him that they were going to talk when the train came to a halt, back at school. Good, Merlin said to himself, now he had time to prepare for whatever it was Arthur was going to spew out.
The foursome went their way, leaving Merlin rather wistful. Now he knew Arthur had something to say and he was going to do his best to hear it.
The Great Hall was as majestic as it always was. Beautiful and magical and filled to the brim with kids in black robes and pointed hats. But that wasn’t what he was paying attention to. Besides, he’d spent five years looking at every crevice of this hall every time he came into it for the first time in that year and he figured something else deserved his attention.
Percy noticed, as he always did. They dug into their feast and Percy leaned into Merlin, whispering into his ear, “He’s looking back at you, you know.”
“Shut up, no, he isn’t,” Merlin probably sounded like a thirteen-year-old girl but he figured a lot thirteen-year-old girls had the same crush on Arthur.
“Yeah, he is,” Percy looked over Merlin’s shoulder, probably to look at Arthur, as well. “Something happen between the two of you?”
“No,” Merlin answered but Percy knew better and narrowed his eyebrows. “Yes. Sort of. Maybe.”
Percy laughed and clapped him on the back.
“What’s so funny?” Merlin asked him defensively.
“There’s no coherency in love, is there?”
“You need to shut up like, right now, or I just might Petrificus Totalus your sorry arse,” Merlin tried to hide his blush by eating his chicken.
“I can’t exactly help it, mate. You’ve been pining for years and now he’s actually looking back at you. My boy’s grown so much,” Percy wiped a fake tear from his eyes.
He’s lucky that only Percy knows about how he felt about Arthur -Merlin never told him because he was hardly sure of it himself but Percy assumed and Merlin was beginning to feel that those assumptions were correct- because it’d be hell if Leon or Gwaine knew because they’d tease him to no end, until the blush on him was permanent.
“I was not pining,” Merlin said.
“Like hell you weren’t. But who wouldn’t pine? You’re lucky I’m such a good friend or I just might make a move on him.”
“Go die in a hole, mate,” Merlin snapped.
“You love me,” Percy teased and resumed his dinner.
Merlin looked up from his meal and -it was accident, he promised!- found Arthur’s eyes. And, in that same moment, Arthur’s eyes found him, too.
Arthur really didn’t want to be this guy, the guy who only thought about one person and that one person was clouding his mind, his judgement and his days. As much as he wanted to avoid the truth, he couldn’t because Merlin was always on his mind.
He’d been on his mind for the longest time. For the summer, Arthur wallowed like a child and his father pretty much had to sit him down and tell him that whatever this girl was doing to him, it was love. Love, he had said love. Like his son was in love.
“Hey, dad,” Arthur had said because he couldn’t keep this secret from his dad, not his dad. He was the one who had taught him almost everything he knew, brought him his first broomstick and clapped in glee when he saw Arthur riding it and was actually the first one to buy Arthur all those jokes from Zonko’s that started a never-ending love for pranks.
“Yeah, son?” his father had asked back.
“What if it was a guy? What if I’m doing all these things because of a guy?”
“Then you better bring him for dinner some time,” his father chuckled. Arthur laughed, as well, until his father took him in and kissed the top of his head like he used to when he was a kid.
I love you, no matter who you love, as long as you still love me, that kiss had said. But they were still Pendragon men and they still hid the best they could so his father laughed and Arthur said he would -given the circumstance that Merlin would actually like him back after that kiss- and they both went their way.
And, now, he was back at school and it was like he never left. There was no space between his days and that kiss was just as permanently branded on his mind the day he leaned in. He wondered if it was always going to be this way with Merlin. The start of every day would not be new; after all, it would be a recollection of all their past moments bunched in together, fresh as the day they made them.
He hoped that would be the case. Voices in his head told him it would be because Merlin kept looking at him during dinner and Gwen had said that she saw Merlin looking back. Not that she knew about his feelings for Merlin but she was Gwen, after all. The prefect among all of them and her eyes were always open for observing things that might not want to be observed.
So Arthur was going to be careful about it. He was going to take his steps wisely so no one would know about them until he was ready. So, the next day, during Defence, Arthur oh-so cleverly put a note in Merlin’s text book, telling him to meet him on the third floor after the classes finished for the day.
He knew Percy knew, though. There was something about the gaze the seventh-year gave him whenever he was in close vicinity to Merlin, as if he was looking out for Merlin. He probably was and, for some reason, Arthur was happy about that. Since Merlin lost Freya, Arthur often worried for him.
Arthur leaned against the brick wall of the third floor corridor, playing with the straps of his messenger bag until Merlin came. Then he saw him, tie loosened with his hair a mess and he could swear his heart stopped beating for a second.
“Emrys,” Arthur stood up properly.
“What happened to Merlin?” the other boy smiled.
Arthur laughed and inched towards him. His hand moved without his consent and touched the side of Merlin’s face tenderly. But Merlin itched away like his fingers carried electrical currents.
“You wanted to talk?” Merlin asked.
“I figured you would want to. Since I’ve made my say and do,” Arthur bit his lip nervously.
“I always thought they’d change.”
“Nah.”
“You’re not gay, though,” Merlin looked down. Did he really think what Arthur felt could be tampered with so easily?
“How would you know?”
“You like girls, a lot.”
“I like you, too. Maybe even more,” Arthur said. He was scared to close in the space between them because Merlin looked afraid and unsure and there were things that needed to be handled with care. Merlin was one of them.
“You can’t.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Emrys, I’m Arthur Pendragon and I can like whoever the hell I want. And, now, it’s you.”
“Well, then I can’t.”
Arthur was a child for even thinking that he could grip Merlin by the shoulders, shake him and ask loudly, “Why not?!” because just because Arthur felt this way, didn’t mean Merlin did. Didn’t mean Merlin ever would, in fact.
“Then why’d you kiss me back?” Arthur had to ask.
“Because, I thought, for a moment, that it could be easy. But it’s not. I can’t be with you because I want it to be easy. Or maybe I just can’t be with you. It’s just…there are things in my life that I can’t expect you to even try to understand and it would be cruel for me to drag you with me and my destiny. It would be cruel to let you into my life without you knowing why I live it.”
“Then tell me, make me understand.”
“It’s so tempting to,” Merlin looked at him with a small, sad smile. “Maybe one day, maybe you’ll understand then but you don’t understand now and I can’t expect you to.”
Merlin came forward, so close that Arthur only felt a few millimetres between them and Arthur desperately wanted this lack of space to be the catalyst of Merlin finally kissing him. But he stopped himself and turned away from Arthur, from ‘temptation’.
“I’m not gonna give up, you know,” Arthur called to him.
“I figured as much,” Merlin said and chuckled. “Stubborn arse.”
The full moon was coming in close. Only a week left but she already felt the effects of it. Usually, it was just one day before that she could feel herself weaken, her strength leaving her until it was renewed by the moon. This was the thought that woke her up and she imagined herself in the Shrieking Shack, their haven during her transformations.
Gwen could’ve sworn her windows transformed into the creaking, wooden ones in the shack, the ones that opened and closed with the timing of a clock. She usually fell asleep with an old blanket over her after her transformation and her friends stayed behind when she woke up. They would crack a joke to make her smile or turn to animal form so they could show their sympathy or lick her wounds.
Sometimes, she ended up alone, when they were busy or preoccupied, like she always had been in the twelve years before they came around. Those were the times that she felt a sort of comfort.
She got up and put on a jacket over her, pulling her hood up. She walked downstairs to the common room, where she was alone because the morning hadn’t really woken up, either. Sometimes she hated being alone -really alone like this- because she thought.
Her thoughts, most of the time, went round and round until she didn’t know what the origin of them was anymore. Her last transformation had been hard, as far as transformations went, painful and she felt everything all at once and remembered everything. Normally, there was a fortunate black-out on her part so everything from the previous night was nothing but a blur. Blanks in her memory that her friends could fill in.
Arthur, Morgana and Lance, they tried to understand and she loved them for it. She was more grateful to them than the bloody, annoying gits could ever understand. But they could never really get it.
Their transformations were voluntary, controlled, and there was no real pain to it. They weren’t a danger to themselves or to others and they could stop whenever they pleased. As much as she loved them -and she loved them more than she could understand herself- and as much as they loved her, they were still human. They were controlled and at will.
At the end of the day, this was her curse and hers to bear alone.
She figured she should get out for a bit, just breathe in some new air and exited the dormitories. When she did, she saw a familiar figure pass her to get to the staircases. Gwen waved a little to Freya and expected the least gesture back because, even when her friends were complete arseholes, she never did anything to hurt her.
Besides, Merlin wasn’t the only one that lost a best friend; Freya had, too. Gwen had seen them arguing in the hallway -something about Merlin’s sixteenth birthday party and Merlin had turned red with anger, all the while, Freya cowered there like she didn’t have a proper answer- and she felt sorry for Freya. A lot of people seemed to forget that Freya was human, as well as Slytherin, and humans made mistakes just like the others.
The prejudice against Slytherins were misplaced, Gwen always figured that. What was wrong with being sorted into Slytherin? It didn’t make the children automatically evil but it was the thoughts of others, the other kids who only viewed them as pureblood maniacs. Who wouldn’t turn bad if everyone thought they already were?
Freya shook her off -she probably thought Gwen was pulling at her- and went her way. Gwen sincerely hoped Freya would end up a better person than everyone thought she was.
She went back into the common room and it was just as warm as it always was and it was all the more warm with no one there to share the heat with. She sat down by the fireplace and started to remember how cold, in contrast, that night had been.
The night she saw a big-figured shadow in the front garden of her old house in Yorkshire; a figure that had gotten closer and closer until she couldn’t run anymore. There was no pain when she was turned -she always figured that he was sparing her that night so the pain could follow her for the rest of her life- and there were no more memories after that.
The next thing she remembered, she was in her bed with her mother hovering over her worriedly, her face decorated with tears, wet and dry alike, and her father’s frustrated yells in the background. She would never really know why her parents had been acting so odd until a few weeks later.
They had sent her off to the nearby woods with a sleeping tent and a change of clothes and told her they loved her but she had to stay the night there. The moon had been full and she had been eight.
“Hullo there, Gwen,” a cheery voice shook her out of her memory and made her smile a bit.
“Hi, Merlin,” Gwen greeted the boy. “You doing alright?”
“I am,” Merlin nodded. “I wonder sometimes how you can be so pleasant but those three you’re friends with are complete nutters.”
“I often wonder the same,” Gwen said with a weak laugh.
“Alright, I’ll be off then. See you in class, yes?” Merlin smiled and went his way.
There was a big thump as Lance jumped to the seat next to her. “Morning, Moony,” he said jovially.
“And to you, too, Mister Padfoot,” Gwen said.
“Who was that you were talking to? Emrys?” Morgana asked she took her place on the chair opposite her.
“Emrys?” Arthur perked up at the sound of his name.
“Good Lord, Arthur, what’s wrong with you? Every time you hear his name, you almost jump as much as I do when I’m a dog,” Lance scoffed. “Anyone could say that you might be gay and in love with Emrys.”
Arthur didn’t say anything but reached up to rub his neck uncomfortably and they all knew each other well enough to know what that meant. This led Morgana to smacking Arthur on the arm and yelling, “No, you can’t be serious! Gosh, you are, aren’t you?” Gwen laughed to herself all the while. Of course Arthur had feelings for Merlin. Anyone with eyes could’ve picked that up.
“Okay, will you guys shut up? I’ll tell you everything if you all just sit there quietly, being good boys and girls, okay?” Arthur looked at Morgana and Lance, who were the most likely to spaz out about it.
Someone once said that love was just friendship on fire. Well, if that was true then Lance wanted the fire.
Gwen was his best friend and he was hers and they had kissed, even though Gwen kept saying it was mistake. Lance figured it would be enough to sustain him to her actual rejection for a real relationship because, truth was, they were in a relationship.
They were closer to each other than some real couples and, sure, they didn’t hold hands or steal each other away in abandoned corridors but they were real. Guinevere and Lancelot: they were made to last.
But Lance couldn’t help but want. Want something more: a real, labelled thing that was concrete and something he could show off. He wanted a hand to hold just because said hand was there and was his to hold. Why didn’t Gwen want the same?
Did she not feel as he felt? Or was it about her lycanthropy? Because he knew, on certain occasions, that Gwen would fear for their -Arthur, Morgana and Lance himself- lives, as if she would ever willingly hurt them. Was it that? Was it her insecurities that had left them in the dark, when she knew full well that he could love every part of her even when she couldn’t?
“You alright there, mate?” Arthur bumped into his shoulder.
They were well outside the school compound, the three of them, and the night was already cold.
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
Morgana, who was to his right, smiled reassuringly as if she knew what he was thinking about -maybe she did; girls always knew these sorts of things- and pocketed her wand. Arthur and Lance always left their own wands back at their rooms because they figured nothing would really happen in the dead of night and, besides, if anything were to happen, they could just turn into their animal forms and run.
Morgana, however, always had been the proper camper and always came prepared. With a quick, “Go on, then,” from Arthur, she closed her eyes. Almost as fast as quicksilver, Morgana changed to her cat form and took off towards the Whomping Willow.
The black cat soon disappeared, leaving the two boys in the night. “Come on, then, I know there’s something else you’re not telling me,” Arthur said to him. “You should hurry, the girls are gonna notice if we don’t come in after them.”
“You’re so sure that I’ll tell you,” Lance said, scoffing because Arthur had a bigger ego than the world.
“Yeah. Who else are you gonna tell anyway? I can tell it’s about a girl so you can’t tell Morgana or Gwen or they’ll, well, you know what they’ll do. Sometimes I’m lucky I’m having feelings for Emrys. Girls are complicated.”
Lance laughed because truth was funny sometimes. “You’re right,” he nodded. “It’s about-” but he stopped in his tracks before he could continue.
There was a figure headed towards the compound. By the looks of it, it was a girl but it was too tall and skinny to be Gwen or Morgana. Anyone else here, on this night, was a sign that they were all in deep shit.
To be caught sneaking out of the castle at this time of night would be bad but to be caught hiding a werewolf under the school’s noses -and had been for years- was going to be disastrous. They could get expelled and Lance could say goodbye to a future without being dependant on his family’s money and influence.
Whoever this person was, she had the potential to really wreck their lives.
“Who is that?” Arthur asked, his eyes squinting.
“I dunno but whoever it is, it’s not a good sign,” Lance shook his head. He and Arthur shared a look of urgency and sprinted.
The figure was close to the entrance now but she had her hood pulled up so he couldn’t quite see her yet. Now, he wished they’d brought their wands because there was no escape without revealing that they were unregistered, underage Animagi. And if one of them were to call Morgana for help, they’d risk giving out the entrance to the Willow, which was pretty much a secret to everyone else.
They were in really, really deep shit.
Lance could only hope that, whoever this person that was butting into their lives, they could be persuaded to leaving. But when he turned the figure around by the force of his hand on her shoulder, he decided there was no chance whatsoever of that happening.
“Lake?” Arthur asked in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Doing what I can to save my best friend from you. I know you’re hiding something, I’ve been following you all year and, if I’m right, then it’s something horrible. Something Taliesin won’t stand for. You’re gonna get expelled for this, Pendragon!” Freya yelled, poking Arthur at his chest, trying to make a point. Lance had to hand it to her, she was almost as brave as Merlin was when they first met.
“Lake-”
Before Arthur and Lance could even think of stopping her, she whipped out her wand and recited, “ Incarcerous,” which was a binding spell, tying both of their hands and feet, leading both of the boys to fall from the lack of balance. Lance could barely register that Freya was actually running from them -and towards a bloodthirsty werewolf but she didn’t know that- and getting away with this.
“Do you think the enchantment will still hold after we transform?” Arthur asked, grunting, tying to get free from his binds. There was no use.
Judging by the path to the Shrieking Shack that they all knew and love, they had five minutes. At best.
Suddenly, a savior came in the form of the black cat that was not really a black cat at all. Morgana changed back, took out her wand and muttered, “Relashio!” to set them free.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked.
“Long story, Arthur said, out of breath. “You two Change and try and calm Gwen down. I’ll try and handle Lake.”
Lance and Morgana nodded, putting their blind faith in Arthur, like they always did.
Arthur was at a loss. Although the thought of Gwen tearing Lake apart limb from limb wasn’t entirely unappealing, he knew Merlin would never forgive him if he did that. but letting her go meant she’d tell on them and then he’d be expelled and the point he was trying to make to Merlin -that he wasn’t that big of a stupid arse- was going to end up futile.
It was almost comical how his judgments swirled around Merlin Emrys.
Lance the big dog and Morgana the black cat ran alongside him as he made his way up the stairs. The door was straight ahead and he knew that, by now, Gwen had already transformed.
He heard a high-pitched scream and he rushed into the room. Through all the times he’d seen Gwen in her werewolf form, he was scared and this time wasn’t any easier because all he was to her now was not her best friend. He was dinner. The long, lean body of her werewolf form loomed over them as her teeth snarled at them. The dog and cat came up to the werewolf’s sides, trying to contain the beast.
Arthur grabbed hold of Lake, who was screaming and pointing at the werewolf. “You’re hiding a werewolf!” she yelled at him. “Not just any werewolf, that’s Guinevere, isn’t it?”
Arthur kept on a blank face, a trick he learned from his dad, so she couldn’t trace back the fact that he was guilty or that what he was saying was the truth.
“Come on!” Arthur tugged on her. She was going to get killed if she stayed and, sure, he might not be her biggest fan and all, but he certainly didn’t want her killed.
Reluctantly, she held on to his arm, so tightly that her nails dug into his skin, and ran with him. Arthur made a quick whistle as they ran so that Lance and Morgana knew to follow them.
When they were in safe distance from Gwen, Lake let go of him and ran her way. There was no other option now. Taliesin was going to know and he was going to decide that their cause was not noble but stupid. Very stupid.
“What do we do now?” Morgana asked, coming up behind him.
“What else can we do? We surrender,” Arthur sighed.
All they wanted to do was be good friends to the kindest person they knew but no one was going to see it that way. They were going to see Gwen as a perversion to nature and they were freaks for even deliberating helping her. Nobody deserved this, especially not Gwen.
What had she done, anyway? She hadn’t hurt anyone in the eight years since she was turned and she had no choice in the matter. She was going to be punished for who she was, who she didn’t want to be in the first place. How was that fair?
“If you guys don’t mind, I’d rather not see the Headmaster right now. I’m gonna stay with Gwen until morning,” Morgana said sadly. “I’ll pack up my bags for our inevitable expulsion then.”
She reverted back to her cat form but had the time to brush her tail on their legs as a soft form of goodbye.
Arthur and Lance walked blindly into the castle and to Taliesin’s office. When they arrived, Tregor was there in her elegant dressing gown with her arms crossed and her face stern. The look on her face conveyed a kind of emotion he didn’t know. It was probably disappointment. Which was unfortunate because she was actually one of the teachers he actually liked.
She sized them up, from their messy hair to their dirty clothes from rolling around the dirt, trying to get out of their bindings, and sighed. She turned to the entrance of the office, the griffin there and called, “Shakespeare,” so the statue moved a little and the boys could come up to the office.
There, they saw, with hardly any surprise, Lake on the couch, with her hands clasped together and Taliesin standing in front of her with the standing that only older, prominent men had. Arthur felt himself gulp -no he couldn’t be nervous; not now, it was too late to be nervous- as Taliesin saw them.
“Mr DuLac, Mr Pendragon, we’ve been waiting for you,” he said gravely. “Please sit down.”
Arthur could feel Lance’s gaze on him but he couldn’t bear to look back. They sat down, Arthur reluctantly next to Lake, who shot him daggers.
“Now, Ms Lake has told me what happened tonight, in the Shrieking Shack,” Taliesin said.
“I know you don’t believe me, sir but-” Freya interjected but was stopped
“No, I believe you just fine, Ms Lake because I know it’s true.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it.
“Sir?” Lance asked. “Do you mean to say that you knew about Gwen?”
“Oh yes, I knew about our dear Guinevere,” Taliesin nodded and smiled. He actually smiled.
“But sir, I hold no judgment against yours but they still deserve to be punished, right? Hiding a werewolf and not turning it in and not confessing, that’s a crime, right?” Lake asked, her determination to see them go through a beating or something like that won over her shock and fear that it would never happen.
“Yes, Misters DuLac and Pendragon have done wrong in the eyes of the school this time and countless other times, I’m sure. We just don’t know about it. So, you two and Misses Lefay and Leodegrance will suffer detention for the next month every other day,” Taliesin said.
“Detention?” Lake jumped to her feet. “But they should be expelled! And you said it yourself that they did things that the school didn’t know about. Who knows what they could be? Knowing them, they’d be disastrous things!”
“Shut up, you filthy Slytherin, why don’t you play with your little Death Eater friends?” Arthur felt the words escape from his mouth before he could stop them.
Lake’s face drained of colour until he was sure that if she stood next to the Grey Lady, he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. She looked like she was going to cry but thought better of it and masked it by looking angry, instead. She said, “If you’ll excuse me, sir,” to Taliesin, turned on her heel and went her way.
Arthur and Lance made a move of doing the same but Taliesin stopped them. “Please wait, gentlemen. I’d rather talk to you about the current situation.”
The boys looked to each other but, regardless, they followed Taliesin to his desk, seeing the odd bird in the cage at one side of the room, a gleaming creature of red and gold. Arthur remembered his lessons in Care of Magical Creatures, this was a phoenix and they were really rare. He almost wondered how Taliesin got a hold of one but thought better of it. He was Taliesin, after all.
There were a lot of things that caught his eye. There was this lighter thing (or at least it looked liked it) and it was shining like a star. A glass he knew was the Foe-Glass, from the books his father had about Dark objects. Arthur wished he could just stay here forever and look through Taliesin’s books that would, no doubt, contain interesting things, not like the books used in their lessons. It was times like these where he was so sure he was going to grow up to be Auror.
“I just want you to know that what you’re doing with Guinevere, it’s noble and very brave. No one else would’ve dared to do the same,” Taliesin sat down on his chair.
“But you did. You let her into the school. No one else would’ve done that, either,” Lance said. “We’re grateful, sir, because we’d be worse off if she didn’t come into our lives.”
“I must ask, however, why did you do it? Why did you help her when so many others could so easily turn their faces to such a cause?” Taliesin asked.
“I’m sorry, sir, but that isn’t a question for us. We’re the best of friends and if one of us in trouble or in danger, we help them. That’s what friends do, that’s what decent human beings do,” Arthur said defensively. “The people that wouldn’t help her are prejudiced jerks, if you’ll excuse my language. Most of the world is made up of them. We’re just trying to do something good and right.”
“I mean, with You-Know-Who slowly gaining power, we need all of the good and right we can get. I know they’re trying to keep it in the dark, but we know. We know more than we should,” Lance nodded. Arthur knew that he was talking about his family, how it ended for him and how it was going to end for them.
“What if I told you that she was gaining power? Nimueh?” Taliesin asked as Arthur and Lance physically flinched at the sound of her name. “Do not be scared of the name, boys, it only increases the misplaced fear of her herself. And what if I told you that there was a group of people that were determined to see her lose?”
“Well, I’d say that I’d wanna join that group of people,” Arthur said excitedly and Lance agreed enthusiastically.
“Not now, boys, you’re too young. But you have what I need. Ideals and good ones. You and Misses Lefay and Leodegrance, I’m sure,” Taliesin smiled.
“But we want to fight!”
“Fight you shall, when you learn enough. When you are grown enough. You are children for now but fighters in the future, do you understand? Do not let anything stop you from our ideals, do not forget the fight, do not ever forget why you did what you did for Guinevere because you’ll be doing that for others, for deserving innocents. Do not stop being exactly who you are because who you are is exactly the kind of people we need to save the world.”
Suddenly, Arthur felt a weight on him that he’d never felt before, a kind of responsibility. Not to say that he’d never been responsible in his lifetime, because he had, with his friends and some of his studies, but it was just that it wasn’t just them anymore. It wasn’t just assumptions that You-Know-Who -for he couldn’t bring himself to speak her name yet- was gaining power because she actually was.
This war was real. And, if Taliesin was telling the truth, that there was a group of people that was dedicated to the cause of fighting her, then they would be joining it soon. They would have to fight and the comfort they’d found here, among hallways and corridors and children -because that was what they were- would be gone.
What else would be gone? Wars were difficult, he knew from his mother’s history lessons on Muggle wars, how the world was torn apart from it and how they would lose more than they would gain. “But in the end we would gain,” his mother had reassured him. Was he ready for that kind of responsibility?
Arthur decided that he had to be.
“Can you do that, boys?” the Headmaster asked.
“Yeah, I think so, yeah,” Lance said nervously. Perhaps he felt what Arthur felt, too.
“And you, Arthur?”
“Yes, I can do that.”
It looked like he’d signed up for this war before it even started.
Obviously, the first person Arthur wanted to tell about the news of this new Order was Merlin but Taliesin told them not to tell anyone until it was time. Time for what? He didn’t know. But Emrys and him weren’t exactly friends yet. What were they, actually?
They weren’t boyfriends -not yet, at least- and they certainly didn’t spend enough time like they did last year to be considered friends. But Merlin controlled a major part of him.
“Hey, Emrys,” Arthur caught up to him after class (most of which he spent looking at him unashamedly, now that his friends knew. Though the girls fawned over his love for Merlin and it was annoying).
“Arthur,” Merlin practically gritted it through his teeth.
“What’s with the tone?” Arthur asked.
“You ruin my life on a daily basis, am I supposed to take another kind of tone?”
“I was an arse. I know I was,” Arthur stepped in front of him, stopping the other boy from walking away. “I made a lot of mistakes. Especially with Freya.”
Merlin looked at him, surprised he would bring up such a thing, like it was a taboo, an unspoken rule to not speak of that again.
“If I hadn’t…” Arthur paused, trying to find the right words. He didn’t. “Then maybe, maybe you’d still have a best friend.”
“You know not everything’s about you, right?” Merlin asked, clearly angrier than he was before. “You’re annoying, Arthur Pendragon. Did you ever think that sending so many flowers and chocolate to my room would send the signal that I was a girl? I’m not one of your conquests, Arthur.”
“I’m sorry!” Arthur called out as Merlin started walking away again. “I just- I’m not good with the whole romance thing and they say that you should give them flowers and chocolates but they were probably talking about girls. But you know what I’m trying to say with those flowers and chocolates, don’t you?”
“Yeah, that you like me.”
“And I’m not gonna stop because you haven’t denied that you like me, too.”
Merlin’s entire face changed with that statement because it was true. He blushed and Arthur wondered how far that blush went. He covered up his smile with a cough. Arthur knew, Arthur knew all of his tricks and he couldn’t hide with them anymore. Because Merlin liked him back.
Arthur was not going to stop until he got a straight yes or no.
“I like books,” Merlin said shyly. “You know, for future reference.”
“Okay, books, yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Have a happy Christmas, Arthur.”
“You, too, Emr-I mean, Merlin.”
In that moment, the war didn’t exist, there would be no war when he left the Academy, because the boy he was falling in love with him just gave him the most genuine, the most beautiful smile he’d seen in a long time.
Merlin began to see sadness in the school. Perhaps it was the fact that more murders were happening and people were grieving the people they may or may not have known, perhaps it was the fact that their Christmas season had not been very fruitful.
He began to see changes in his friends, as well. They all walked cautiously, as if they were scared they would trigger a dungbomb -or something worse- with their steps.
Arthur and his gang carried themselves like they carried something heavy on their shoulders, a sort of responsibility. Although that didn’t mean Arthur stopped, for lack of a better word, flirting with him. At least, now, he was getting it right. No more flowers and chocolate but instead things with substance. Books and conversation, that was what Merlin really wanted from him.
And Freya, she stopped being persistent. Before the break, she kept trying to be his friend and then wishing him Happy Birthday as if nothing happened. Now, however, she sulked and shot murderous glances at Arthur and only talked when she was spoken to. She lurked with her Slytherin crowd and was almost in glee when they bullied kids. Honestly, Merlin didn’t know when she’d stopped being Freya.
What he was worried about the most, however, was that Percy hadn’t contacted him since before Christmas break. Usually, he’d send letters or presents through the mail. Sure, a present came through with a merry note but it had gone through the Muggle mail before break and took a little longer. He knew because he had called the office and called Percy, trying to thank him for the book -Healing and all its Magical Uses- to no avail.
Surely he was alright. He wasn’t Muggle-born, or even half-blood, his family came from a long line of purebloods so obviously he would be fine. No one would come and murder him in the night or in the cabin he told Merlin his family normally went to during school breaks. But that didn’t mean Merlin stopped worrying.
At the start of the new term, all the sixth-years were to take obligatory Apparating classes in the Great Hall during the weekends. Merlin was quite excited for this. It’d be easier to travel and, although Percy said it was hard and it hurt at first, it was fun.
Tregor and Aulfric gathered all of them down. They were dressed in normal clothes, their meddlesome robes out of the way so that it would be easier to practice. Merlin saw Elena one corner of the room and waved. Gilli stood next to Merlin and he could almost feel his nervousness.
“Okay, students, gather round,” Tregor said cheerfully as Aulfric looked at all of them like they were scum, like he always did. “In front of you, there is a small ring. I want you to clear your mind and think of Apparating into the ring. Nothing else, just think about it and we’ll see how that progresses.”
He could see the disappointment in the other students’ faces. They had all expected to be able to Apparate on the first try and go somewhere useful, like to Hogsmeade or something. Merlin wasn’t like that, this small ring was a good start. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.
In a few seconds, he realized that wouldn’t happen. Arthur and Lance came late, as always, and Merlin could hear Arthur’s voice as he apologized to Tregor with his eyes closed, along with the sound of clothes shuffling as Arthur settled next to him. Good lord, how was he supposed to concentrate with Arthur standing in such close proximity to him?
Merlin wanted to lie to himself and say that Arthur didn’t have much of a hold on him but he couldn’t even do that. He opened one of his eyes to look at him only to see him looking back. Merlin felt the heat accumulating in his cheeks as Arthur came closer. Before he knew it, his fingers were brushing against his.
“Stop it,” Merlin whispered.
Arthur gave a low laugh, almost to say, “Nope,” with the movement of his fingers against the flesh of his hand.
“Attacks! There’s been more attacks!” someone yelled, entering the Great Hall with a loud bang. It was a seventh-year, waving the Daily Prophet in his hands. At the sound of the word ‘attacks’ everyone gasped and Merlin found himself holding Arthur’s hand for dear life.
“Students! Calm yourselves!” Tregor yelled, trying to control the crowd who circled around the seventh-years. She took the paper from the boy’s hands and read it aloud. She wanted to know, too, he knew it. At this point, everyone was invested.
“’There was a gruesome murder that happened in the shy, beaches of Cornwall. Three families were killed using the Killing Curse, one of them was made up of a wizard with Muggle-born parents while the others consisted of normal wizarding families. Witnesses report that they tried to stop whoever it was that was killing the Muggle-born family. Those sacrificed in this mindless slaughter include George and Anya Gray, 43 and 52 respectively, along with their 18-year-old son Percival, who was a seventh-year in the prestigious Academy.”
The rest of the article was lost, at least to him.
His head spun and his balance was lost. Percy was gone. Percy was gone. His best friend -that was what he was, there were no other words for him- was gone. He could feel everyone staring at him, he felt the heat from their gazes but only felt coldness in Arthur’s hand, a hand he was holding and gripping hard. He let it fall from his grasp and ran.
Ran like the day he met Percy only, this time, there wouldn’t be a Percy to stop him and hold him in his arms and comfort him.
But he should’ve known there would be an Arthur.
“It’s real now, it’s real. They took Percy,” Merlin managed to say in between sobs on Arthur’s shoulder. This was embarrassing, just crying here in an empty hallway on your not-so-boyfriend’s shoulder while he held your wracking body. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Hey, look at me,” Arthur’s hands found his face and urged it to look up to his, look into his eyes that conveyed the courage he needed. “You know what to do. You fight. You fight for Percy and fight for yourself. Don’t give up, you hear me? No one has a right to do that right now.”
“But-”
“Don’t ever give up.” His finger caressed the side of Merlin’s face. Kisses weren’t as intimate as this, just touching and reassurance and seeing the other person break only to put them back together again.
“Yes,” Merlin said.
“Yes?”
“Just, you. Yes to you. At least I think so.”
“Shut up, Emrys, we don’t have to talk about us right now. There are more important things.”
“I know,” Merlin nodded. Percy was more important, his death was more important, the realness and fear of this war was more important. But that didn’t make this any less important.
Percival’s death didn’t really rock the school to its core, it was the fact that it happened. A young, pureblood family was slaughtered and if they didn’t survive, who was to say any of them would?
Sure, they had a memorial for him, where Merlin had to go up and say a few words about his best friend that was lost. Arthur told him not to say much about the war and how this was actually You-Know-Who at work, but no one would ever remember his name, other than as that pureblood guy who got killed. No one cared about Percy but everyone cared about what happened to him.
Was this what the war was going to do to them? Every single one of them would die and get killed for the cause and then become obsolete?
After the memorial, after all the candles were burnt out, after Arthur’s hand became sweaty from Merlin holding it so much, Merlin couldn’t help it anymore. He hadn’t spoken to the Dragon in over a year -there were more important things to deal with, after all, and there was nothing the Dragon could say that he didn’t know already- and, now, with the sudden turn of events, he had to.
He was amazed he still knew the way.
“Hey there,” Merlin said to the Dragon head on the wall. The dragon yawned, opening his eyes. It took a while for it to look at Merlin and recognize him for the young man he put a destiny on.
“Emrys,” the Dragon said with a tone of -what was that? Happiness?- an emotion he didn’t know the Dragon had.
“Hi.”
“You said that already.”
“Yeah, I guessed I did,” Merlin gave a weak laugh. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Arthur’s good, he’s fine and I’m protecting him. But the war’s starting. No one’s safe anymore.”
“Were they ever?”
“No, I am not taking your philosophical crap. This is real. They killed my friend and now everyone’s planning. Everyone’s taking sides. And my boyfriend and his friends -well, I think he’s my boyfriend, I don’t know, this is the first time I’ve called him that and it sounds weird because all we’ve done is hold hands and smile at each other and I’ve cried on his shoulder- they’re planning, too. They think I don’t know. But they keep talking about some kind of Order.”
“Young warlock,” the Dragon sighed. “Is there a point to this?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” Merlin groaned and leaned against the hard wall. Pause. “Did you know that Arthur is my sort of-boyfriend?”
The Dragon started laughing heartily and Merlin felt the heat everywhere in his body as he blushed. It was like admitting that you had a thing for the guy your friends set you up with, a date you never wanted.
“Excellent,” the Dragon said. If it had hands, Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that it would clap a thundering sort of applause.
“Shut up.”
“You should know, Emrys, that you don’t just help Arthur. You don’t just protect him. You are meant to be part of his life and if his life means fighting the war, then you have to fight alongside him. That’s the way things have been written. Merlin and Arthur, Arthur and Merlin. And I have the suspicion that you don’t mind anymore.”
“Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t mind. Not anymore,” Merlin shook his head and smiled to himself.
When he looked up, he saw that the Dragon was doing the same. He wondered what it was when it had been a full Dragon, had it been feared or admired? Or both? He wondered how he ended up as a only a dragon head, how he ended up telling young students to protect other young students in the form of stubborn arses.
“I should go,” Merlin twiddled his thumbs. “Arthur will be expecting me.”
“Of course. Good luck, young warlock,” it said. It almost looked sad. Maybe the war affected him, too, through it affecting Merlin and Arthur. He surely needed luck.
PART SEVEN
For him, his family just ended. For them, they just took out the rubbish.
The DuLac family was a proud clan, who tore off the edges of their own fabric because it was not going to give them any worth anymore. They had tried, after all, and there was a part of him that admired them for holding out for so long. Lance was a handful and he knew it.
The other part knew that he’d been acting out -even more so since Elyan started school- because he wanted this to happen. He wanted to say goodbye to the tall stairs and secrets rooms and the big looming house but, most importantly, the occupants.
After sixteen long years, he was sure he wanted this. He hated his life of luxury if it meant getting there also meant trampling over Muggle-borns and half-breeds or everyone that was deemed unworthy of their time and attention. His girlfriend, for one, was one of those people his parents would stamp on and he hated it.
Lance never understood why they did the things they did. They made money and enemies and only loved among themselves -if that was considered love, at all. So, naturally, as any other teenager who’d been repressed is whole life, trying to contain his anger, frustration and countless other feelings that could fall closely under the category of rage, for a cause he never could save -a futile quest- he acted out.
Lance had acted out before, of course, what with the getting into trouble at school, coming home at all hours of the night. But none of these small rebellions was directly against their standing.
No, today, he yelled. He yelled and they yelled back. It was safe to say that this was the longest amount of time they communicated with each other. Sixteen years of rage came out in the form of heated words, words that explained how much he hated what they were doing, how it was unfair and how they were so selfish. What was wrong with Muggle-borns and everyone else that wasn’t them and what was so right about them?
“Look at us, Mother, our family members are joining You-Know-Who. Joining!” he yelled.
She looked at him like he just got run over by a car. “It is an honour to be chosen in an army, Lancelot.”
“Not this one!”
Because this one killed aimlessly and ran around saying they were better. And You-Know-Who, she was planning something big and whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good for either party. So he yelled until he couldn’t yell anymore, until the war was real and right in front of his face, until all he wanted he wanted to say had been said -loudly- and it all ended with his father looking down at him and saying, “Get out of this house.”
It was as if these were the words he’d waited for, for a long time. But it also felt as if they were the exact words he dreaded.
“Good riddance,” Elyan said as he entered Lance’s room. “I thought they’d never throw you out.”
“Happy, are you?” Lance huffed, his hands tightening the straps of his backpack.
“Delirious.”
Lance looked at him, his brother. When did he stop being his brother, his friend? When did he become a stranger to him? Gone was the boy who used to climb into his bed in the middle of the night, trying to find solace; gone was the small boy he used to love.
Some people grew up to change, he understood, but Lance couldn’t help but think that this change in Elyan wasn’t his choice.
“Do you ever think that maybe we could get along, Elyan?” Lance asked, sighing because it was no use at this point.
“No,” Elyan said decidedly. “Because I, unlike you, am not a ginormous prick.”
And that was that. There would be no heartfelt goodbyes or a lingering stare that might just change everything. Nothing. There was only movement and shuffling to the door and an exit.
For a moment, Lance was nothing. He was nothing but a man who had lost everything; his family, his standing, everything that could’ve defined him in later years. He was no one except for a homeless young man with nowhere to go.
Then he remembered. He always had somewhere to go.
He took the rest of the journey like a man possessed with the will to go on. He wished he could Apparate but he figured he was going to be a sixth year this time around, he’d learn. But, for now, he was going to have to resort to walking and bus-taking to his destination.
He made sure his wand was in his pocket, just in case, and his robes and whatnot for the Academy nicely packed into his bag and assured himself that all he needed to bring was on him. He needed to know because he was sure he was never going to go back to that wicked household.
Lance tapped on the door to the big house before him. When the door opened, he was mildly surprised to see the face he’d been waiting to see up in this hour of the morning -for Lance knew he just travelled the whole night with no stop.
Arthur looked him down, from his tired eyes that weren’t half as tired as he really was, to the clothes that were still wet from the previous bout of rain and his numerous bags on him. Then, the shock cleared and what replaced the expression was one of happiness, mixed with a little worry.
“So,” Lance said with a smile he was finding hard to come up with, “Any room for me, then?”
Arthur laughed and took some of the bags off of his hands. “Always, mate,” he said and pulled him in him for a big man hug that Lance was sure he was going to say later never happened.
Merlin Emrys had been kissed twice.
And both times, his head had come out reeling. Not in the good kind, either, the kind that made your head dizzy with love and all you wanted to do was kiss them again and again. But the kind that left him fidgeting and nervous about what the repercussions of said kiss were.
Both kisses, after they happened, were so awkward he could pretty much dig a hole and burrow himself in said hole so he’d never have to look at the other person in the eye ever again. Sure, he and Percy took a few months before they were comfortable with each other and that was fine but what of Arthur?
Arthur, who had weaselled his way into his life without him even giving any kind of consent; Arthur, who had already been part of his life before without him even knowing it; Arthur, who he was going to see, whether he liked it or not, on this train station.
He was going to have to live this down for the rest of his life -for that was how long he was going to spend with Arthur- and, god, he really wanted to find a shovel. Either to dig that hole or to hit Arthur with it because this was all his fault, anyway.
Merlin wanted to distract himself with something but there was nothing. This was the first time in five years that he was alone in the train station. Freya was no longer part of his life, after all. Part of him missed her but most of him despised her for saying what she said -because he knew she meant all of it, in all of the heat she said it in.
He figured he couldn’t be friends with someone who would grow up to hurt people like him. What was his bloodline supposed to do with anything, anyway? Just because his parents weren’t destined to be part of the wizarding world, didn’t mean he wasn’t.
He was good at what he did, with or without his wand and no amount of blood was going to define him. What was the point, anyway?
But Freya, she was gone into that realm of defining people just by how they were raised or who their family was. She was going to be with You-Know-Who, he just knew it.
Even with the kids, they were being split up. Into the groups who hated You-Know-Who’s cause and people who would die to defend it. Freya took her side and it was only right that Merlin would take his. As soon as they were out of the Academy, with as much experience and knowledge the school would provide, their choices would be real.
The war that the newspapers and the Ministry that was trying to hide from the eyes of the public -even though everyone knew everything already- would be real and they would have to fight. If he was going to fight against Freya, that would be fine, because you only fought against enemies, right?
“The train’s boarding, Merlin,” someone tapped him on his shoulder, interrupting his gaze. Gilli, a Hufflepuff, smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back because Gilli was one of people who always looked at the bright side of things.
Merlin, for a moment, wondered why they weren’t closer friends. “Sit with me on the train?” Merlin asked him.
“Sure,” Gilli nodded happily.
They climbed up the train and, almost immediately, Merlin was pushed to the side by another figure. The gentle shove was accompanied by a, “Hey, Emrys.”
Lance smirked at him as Gwen wrapped her arm around his. Morgana waved with a sort of evil smile -really, Merlin was kind of happy not all of her was broken because of Leon- while Arthur was radiant. If Merlin was colour-blind, if people to him were nothing but black and white, Arthur would be Technicolor.
He was beautiful -could he say beautiful about other boys? He wasn’t sure- and his smile, the most beautiful one he’s seen in a long time, was directed at him. Merlin knew -Merlin knew, Merlin knew it so hard, so well- that their kiss was never going to leave them. And he thought he was going to be okay with that.
“Hey, Merlin,” Arthur said. Merlin, Merlin thought, he called me Merlin.
“Hi, Arthur,” Merlin said back.
The look in Arthur’s eyes told him that they were going to talk when the train came to a halt, back at school. Good, Merlin said to himself, now he had time to prepare for whatever it was Arthur was going to spew out.
The foursome went their way, leaving Merlin rather wistful. Now he knew Arthur had something to say and he was going to do his best to hear it.
The Great Hall was as majestic as it always was. Beautiful and magical and filled to the brim with kids in black robes and pointed hats. But that wasn’t what he was paying attention to. Besides, he’d spent five years looking at every crevice of this hall every time he came into it for the first time in that year and he figured something else deserved his attention.
Percy noticed, as he always did. They dug into their feast and Percy leaned into Merlin, whispering into his ear, “He’s looking back at you, you know.”
“Shut up, no, he isn’t,” Merlin probably sounded like a thirteen-year-old girl but he figured a lot thirteen-year-old girls had the same crush on Arthur.
“Yeah, he is,” Percy looked over Merlin’s shoulder, probably to look at Arthur, as well. “Something happen between the two of you?”
“No,” Merlin answered but Percy knew better and narrowed his eyebrows. “Yes. Sort of. Maybe.”
Percy laughed and clapped him on the back.
“What’s so funny?” Merlin asked him defensively.
“There’s no coherency in love, is there?”
“You need to shut up like, right now, or I just might Petrificus Totalus your sorry arse,” Merlin tried to hide his blush by eating his chicken.
“I can’t exactly help it, mate. You’ve been pining for years and now he’s actually looking back at you. My boy’s grown so much,” Percy wiped a fake tear from his eyes.
He’s lucky that only Percy knows about how he felt about Arthur -Merlin never told him because he was hardly sure of it himself but Percy assumed and Merlin was beginning to feel that those assumptions were correct- because it’d be hell if Leon or Gwaine knew because they’d tease him to no end, until the blush on him was permanent.
“I was not pining,” Merlin said.
“Like hell you weren’t. But who wouldn’t pine? You’re lucky I’m such a good friend or I just might make a move on him.”
“Go die in a hole, mate,” Merlin snapped.
“You love me,” Percy teased and resumed his dinner.
Merlin looked up from his meal and -it was accident, he promised!- found Arthur’s eyes. And, in that same moment, Arthur’s eyes found him, too.
Arthur really didn’t want to be this guy, the guy who only thought about one person and that one person was clouding his mind, his judgement and his days. As much as he wanted to avoid the truth, he couldn’t because Merlin was always on his mind.
He’d been on his mind for the longest time. For the summer, Arthur wallowed like a child and his father pretty much had to sit him down and tell him that whatever this girl was doing to him, it was love. Love, he had said love. Like his son was in love.
“Hey, dad,” Arthur had said because he couldn’t keep this secret from his dad, not his dad. He was the one who had taught him almost everything he knew, brought him his first broomstick and clapped in glee when he saw Arthur riding it and was actually the first one to buy Arthur all those jokes from Zonko’s that started a never-ending love for pranks.
“Yeah, son?” his father had asked back.
“What if it was a guy? What if I’m doing all these things because of a guy?”
“Then you better bring him for dinner some time,” his father chuckled. Arthur laughed, as well, until his father took him in and kissed the top of his head like he used to when he was a kid.
I love you, no matter who you love, as long as you still love me, that kiss had said. But they were still Pendragon men and they still hid the best they could so his father laughed and Arthur said he would -given the circumstance that Merlin would actually like him back after that kiss- and they both went their way.
And, now, he was back at school and it was like he never left. There was no space between his days and that kiss was just as permanently branded on his mind the day he leaned in. He wondered if it was always going to be this way with Merlin. The start of every day would not be new; after all, it would be a recollection of all their past moments bunched in together, fresh as the day they made them.
He hoped that would be the case. Voices in his head told him it would be because Merlin kept looking at him during dinner and Gwen had said that she saw Merlin looking back. Not that she knew about his feelings for Merlin but she was Gwen, after all. The prefect among all of them and her eyes were always open for observing things that might not want to be observed.
So Arthur was going to be careful about it. He was going to take his steps wisely so no one would know about them until he was ready. So, the next day, during Defence, Arthur oh-so cleverly put a note in Merlin’s text book, telling him to meet him on the third floor after the classes finished for the day.
He knew Percy knew, though. There was something about the gaze the seventh-year gave him whenever he was in close vicinity to Merlin, as if he was looking out for Merlin. He probably was and, for some reason, Arthur was happy about that. Since Merlin lost Freya, Arthur often worried for him.
Arthur leaned against the brick wall of the third floor corridor, playing with the straps of his messenger bag until Merlin came. Then he saw him, tie loosened with his hair a mess and he could swear his heart stopped beating for a second.
“Emrys,” Arthur stood up properly.
“What happened to Merlin?” the other boy smiled.
Arthur laughed and inched towards him. His hand moved without his consent and touched the side of Merlin’s face tenderly. But Merlin itched away like his fingers carried electrical currents.
“You wanted to talk?” Merlin asked.
“I figured you would want to. Since I’ve made my say and do,” Arthur bit his lip nervously.
“I always thought they’d change.”
“Nah.”
“You’re not gay, though,” Merlin looked down. Did he really think what Arthur felt could be tampered with so easily?
“How would you know?”
“You like girls, a lot.”
“I like you, too. Maybe even more,” Arthur said. He was scared to close in the space between them because Merlin looked afraid and unsure and there were things that needed to be handled with care. Merlin was one of them.
“You can’t.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Emrys, I’m Arthur Pendragon and I can like whoever the hell I want. And, now, it’s you.”
“Well, then I can’t.”
Arthur was a child for even thinking that he could grip Merlin by the shoulders, shake him and ask loudly, “Why not?!” because just because Arthur felt this way, didn’t mean Merlin did. Didn’t mean Merlin ever would, in fact.
“Then why’d you kiss me back?” Arthur had to ask.
“Because, I thought, for a moment, that it could be easy. But it’s not. I can’t be with you because I want it to be easy. Or maybe I just can’t be with you. It’s just…there are things in my life that I can’t expect you to even try to understand and it would be cruel for me to drag you with me and my destiny. It would be cruel to let you into my life without you knowing why I live it.”
“Then tell me, make me understand.”
“It’s so tempting to,” Merlin looked at him with a small, sad smile. “Maybe one day, maybe you’ll understand then but you don’t understand now and I can’t expect you to.”
Merlin came forward, so close that Arthur only felt a few millimetres between them and Arthur desperately wanted this lack of space to be the catalyst of Merlin finally kissing him. But he stopped himself and turned away from Arthur, from ‘temptation’.
“I’m not gonna give up, you know,” Arthur called to him.
“I figured as much,” Merlin said and chuckled. “Stubborn arse.”
The full moon was coming in close. Only a week left but she already felt the effects of it. Usually, it was just one day before that she could feel herself weaken, her strength leaving her until it was renewed by the moon. This was the thought that woke her up and she imagined herself in the Shrieking Shack, their haven during her transformations.
Gwen could’ve sworn her windows transformed into the creaking, wooden ones in the shack, the ones that opened and closed with the timing of a clock. She usually fell asleep with an old blanket over her after her transformation and her friends stayed behind when she woke up. They would crack a joke to make her smile or turn to animal form so they could show their sympathy or lick her wounds.
Sometimes, she ended up alone, when they were busy or preoccupied, like she always had been in the twelve years before they came around. Those were the times that she felt a sort of comfort.
She got up and put on a jacket over her, pulling her hood up. She walked downstairs to the common room, where she was alone because the morning hadn’t really woken up, either. Sometimes she hated being alone -really alone like this- because she thought.
Her thoughts, most of the time, went round and round until she didn’t know what the origin of them was anymore. Her last transformation had been hard, as far as transformations went, painful and she felt everything all at once and remembered everything. Normally, there was a fortunate black-out on her part so everything from the previous night was nothing but a blur. Blanks in her memory that her friends could fill in.
Arthur, Morgana and Lance, they tried to understand and she loved them for it. She was more grateful to them than the bloody, annoying gits could ever understand. But they could never really get it.
Their transformations were voluntary, controlled, and there was no real pain to it. They weren’t a danger to themselves or to others and they could stop whenever they pleased. As much as she loved them -and she loved them more than she could understand herself- and as much as they loved her, they were still human. They were controlled and at will.
At the end of the day, this was her curse and hers to bear alone.
She figured she should get out for a bit, just breathe in some new air and exited the dormitories. When she did, she saw a familiar figure pass her to get to the staircases. Gwen waved a little to Freya and expected the least gesture back because, even when her friends were complete arseholes, she never did anything to hurt her.
Besides, Merlin wasn’t the only one that lost a best friend; Freya had, too. Gwen had seen them arguing in the hallway -something about Merlin’s sixteenth birthday party and Merlin had turned red with anger, all the while, Freya cowered there like she didn’t have a proper answer- and she felt sorry for Freya. A lot of people seemed to forget that Freya was human, as well as Slytherin, and humans made mistakes just like the others.
The prejudice against Slytherins were misplaced, Gwen always figured that. What was wrong with being sorted into Slytherin? It didn’t make the children automatically evil but it was the thoughts of others, the other kids who only viewed them as pureblood maniacs. Who wouldn’t turn bad if everyone thought they already were?
Freya shook her off -she probably thought Gwen was pulling at her- and went her way. Gwen sincerely hoped Freya would end up a better person than everyone thought she was.
She went back into the common room and it was just as warm as it always was and it was all the more warm with no one there to share the heat with. She sat down by the fireplace and started to remember how cold, in contrast, that night had been.
The night she saw a big-figured shadow in the front garden of her old house in Yorkshire; a figure that had gotten closer and closer until she couldn’t run anymore. There was no pain when she was turned -she always figured that he was sparing her that night so the pain could follow her for the rest of her life- and there were no more memories after that.
The next thing she remembered, she was in her bed with her mother hovering over her worriedly, her face decorated with tears, wet and dry alike, and her father’s frustrated yells in the background. She would never really know why her parents had been acting so odd until a few weeks later.
They had sent her off to the nearby woods with a sleeping tent and a change of clothes and told her they loved her but she had to stay the night there. The moon had been full and she had been eight.
“Hullo there, Gwen,” a cheery voice shook her out of her memory and made her smile a bit.
“Hi, Merlin,” Gwen greeted the boy. “You doing alright?”
“I am,” Merlin nodded. “I wonder sometimes how you can be so pleasant but those three you’re friends with are complete nutters.”
“I often wonder the same,” Gwen said with a weak laugh.
“Alright, I’ll be off then. See you in class, yes?” Merlin smiled and went his way.
There was a big thump as Lance jumped to the seat next to her. “Morning, Moony,” he said jovially.
“And to you, too, Mister Padfoot,” Gwen said.
“Who was that you were talking to? Emrys?” Morgana asked she took her place on the chair opposite her.
“Emrys?” Arthur perked up at the sound of his name.
“Good Lord, Arthur, what’s wrong with you? Every time you hear his name, you almost jump as much as I do when I’m a dog,” Lance scoffed. “Anyone could say that you might be gay and in love with Emrys.”
Arthur didn’t say anything but reached up to rub his neck uncomfortably and they all knew each other well enough to know what that meant. This led Morgana to smacking Arthur on the arm and yelling, “No, you can’t be serious! Gosh, you are, aren’t you?” Gwen laughed to herself all the while. Of course Arthur had feelings for Merlin. Anyone with eyes could’ve picked that up.
“Okay, will you guys shut up? I’ll tell you everything if you all just sit there quietly, being good boys and girls, okay?” Arthur looked at Morgana and Lance, who were the most likely to spaz out about it.
Someone once said that love was just friendship on fire. Well, if that was true then Lance wanted the fire.
Gwen was his best friend and he was hers and they had kissed, even though Gwen kept saying it was mistake. Lance figured it would be enough to sustain him to her actual rejection for a real relationship because, truth was, they were in a relationship.
They were closer to each other than some real couples and, sure, they didn’t hold hands or steal each other away in abandoned corridors but they were real. Guinevere and Lancelot: they were made to last.
But Lance couldn’t help but want. Want something more: a real, labelled thing that was concrete and something he could show off. He wanted a hand to hold just because said hand was there and was his to hold. Why didn’t Gwen want the same?
Did she not feel as he felt? Or was it about her lycanthropy? Because he knew, on certain occasions, that Gwen would fear for their -Arthur, Morgana and Lance himself- lives, as if she would ever willingly hurt them. Was it that? Was it her insecurities that had left them in the dark, when she knew full well that he could love every part of her even when she couldn’t?
“You alright there, mate?” Arthur bumped into his shoulder.
They were well outside the school compound, the three of them, and the night was already cold.
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
Morgana, who was to his right, smiled reassuringly as if she knew what he was thinking about -maybe she did; girls always knew these sorts of things- and pocketed her wand. Arthur and Lance always left their own wands back at their rooms because they figured nothing would really happen in the dead of night and, besides, if anything were to happen, they could just turn into their animal forms and run.
Morgana, however, always had been the proper camper and always came prepared. With a quick, “Go on, then,” from Arthur, she closed her eyes. Almost as fast as quicksilver, Morgana changed to her cat form and took off towards the Whomping Willow.
The black cat soon disappeared, leaving the two boys in the night. “Come on, then, I know there’s something else you’re not telling me,” Arthur said to him. “You should hurry, the girls are gonna notice if we don’t come in after them.”
“You’re so sure that I’ll tell you,” Lance said, scoffing because Arthur had a bigger ego than the world.
“Yeah. Who else are you gonna tell anyway? I can tell it’s about a girl so you can’t tell Morgana or Gwen or they’ll, well, you know what they’ll do. Sometimes I’m lucky I’m having feelings for Emrys. Girls are complicated.”
Lance laughed because truth was funny sometimes. “You’re right,” he nodded. “It’s about-” but he stopped in his tracks before he could continue.
There was a figure headed towards the compound. By the looks of it, it was a girl but it was too tall and skinny to be Gwen or Morgana. Anyone else here, on this night, was a sign that they were all in deep shit.
To be caught sneaking out of the castle at this time of night would be bad but to be caught hiding a werewolf under the school’s noses -and had been for years- was going to be disastrous. They could get expelled and Lance could say goodbye to a future without being dependant on his family’s money and influence.
Whoever this person was, she had the potential to really wreck their lives.
“Who is that?” Arthur asked, his eyes squinting.
“I dunno but whoever it is, it’s not a good sign,” Lance shook his head. He and Arthur shared a look of urgency and sprinted.
The figure was close to the entrance now but she had her hood pulled up so he couldn’t quite see her yet. Now, he wished they’d brought their wands because there was no escape without revealing that they were unregistered, underage Animagi. And if one of them were to call Morgana for help, they’d risk giving out the entrance to the Willow, which was pretty much a secret to everyone else.
They were in really, really deep shit.
Lance could only hope that, whoever this person that was butting into their lives, they could be persuaded to leaving. But when he turned the figure around by the force of his hand on her shoulder, he decided there was no chance whatsoever of that happening.
“Lake?” Arthur asked in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Doing what I can to save my best friend from you. I know you’re hiding something, I’ve been following you all year and, if I’m right, then it’s something horrible. Something Taliesin won’t stand for. You’re gonna get expelled for this, Pendragon!” Freya yelled, poking Arthur at his chest, trying to make a point. Lance had to hand it to her, she was almost as brave as Merlin was when they first met.
“Lake-”
Before Arthur and Lance could even think of stopping her, she whipped out her wand and recited, “ Incarcerous,” which was a binding spell, tying both of their hands and feet, leading both of the boys to fall from the lack of balance. Lance could barely register that Freya was actually running from them -and towards a bloodthirsty werewolf but she didn’t know that- and getting away with this.
“Do you think the enchantment will still hold after we transform?” Arthur asked, grunting, tying to get free from his binds. There was no use.
Judging by the path to the Shrieking Shack that they all knew and love, they had five minutes. At best.
Suddenly, a savior came in the form of the black cat that was not really a black cat at all. Morgana changed back, took out her wand and muttered, “Relashio!” to set them free.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked.
“Long story, Arthur said, out of breath. “You two Change and try and calm Gwen down. I’ll try and handle Lake.”
Lance and Morgana nodded, putting their blind faith in Arthur, like they always did.
Arthur was at a loss. Although the thought of Gwen tearing Lake apart limb from limb wasn’t entirely unappealing, he knew Merlin would never forgive him if he did that. but letting her go meant she’d tell on them and then he’d be expelled and the point he was trying to make to Merlin -that he wasn’t that big of a stupid arse- was going to end up futile.
It was almost comical how his judgments swirled around Merlin Emrys.
Lance the big dog and Morgana the black cat ran alongside him as he made his way up the stairs. The door was straight ahead and he knew that, by now, Gwen had already transformed.
He heard a high-pitched scream and he rushed into the room. Through all the times he’d seen Gwen in her werewolf form, he was scared and this time wasn’t any easier because all he was to her now was not her best friend. He was dinner. The long, lean body of her werewolf form loomed over them as her teeth snarled at them. The dog and cat came up to the werewolf’s sides, trying to contain the beast.
Arthur grabbed hold of Lake, who was screaming and pointing at the werewolf. “You’re hiding a werewolf!” she yelled at him. “Not just any werewolf, that’s Guinevere, isn’t it?”
Arthur kept on a blank face, a trick he learned from his dad, so she couldn’t trace back the fact that he was guilty or that what he was saying was the truth.
“Come on!” Arthur tugged on her. She was going to get killed if she stayed and, sure, he might not be her biggest fan and all, but he certainly didn’t want her killed.
Reluctantly, she held on to his arm, so tightly that her nails dug into his skin, and ran with him. Arthur made a quick whistle as they ran so that Lance and Morgana knew to follow them.
When they were in safe distance from Gwen, Lake let go of him and ran her way. There was no other option now. Taliesin was going to know and he was going to decide that their cause was not noble but stupid. Very stupid.
“What do we do now?” Morgana asked, coming up behind him.
“What else can we do? We surrender,” Arthur sighed.
All they wanted to do was be good friends to the kindest person they knew but no one was going to see it that way. They were going to see Gwen as a perversion to nature and they were freaks for even deliberating helping her. Nobody deserved this, especially not Gwen.
What had she done, anyway? She hadn’t hurt anyone in the eight years since she was turned and she had no choice in the matter. She was going to be punished for who she was, who she didn’t want to be in the first place. How was that fair?
“If you guys don’t mind, I’d rather not see the Headmaster right now. I’m gonna stay with Gwen until morning,” Morgana said sadly. “I’ll pack up my bags for our inevitable expulsion then.”
She reverted back to her cat form but had the time to brush her tail on their legs as a soft form of goodbye.
Arthur and Lance walked blindly into the castle and to Taliesin’s office. When they arrived, Tregor was there in her elegant dressing gown with her arms crossed and her face stern. The look on her face conveyed a kind of emotion he didn’t know. It was probably disappointment. Which was unfortunate because she was actually one of the teachers he actually liked.
She sized them up, from their messy hair to their dirty clothes from rolling around the dirt, trying to get out of their bindings, and sighed. She turned to the entrance of the office, the griffin there and called, “Shakespeare,” so the statue moved a little and the boys could come up to the office.
There, they saw, with hardly any surprise, Lake on the couch, with her hands clasped together and Taliesin standing in front of her with the standing that only older, prominent men had. Arthur felt himself gulp -no he couldn’t be nervous; not now, it was too late to be nervous- as Taliesin saw them.
“Mr DuLac, Mr Pendragon, we’ve been waiting for you,” he said gravely. “Please sit down.”
Arthur could feel Lance’s gaze on him but he couldn’t bear to look back. They sat down, Arthur reluctantly next to Lake, who shot him daggers.
“Now, Ms Lake has told me what happened tonight, in the Shrieking Shack,” Taliesin said.
“I know you don’t believe me, sir but-” Freya interjected but was stopped
“No, I believe you just fine, Ms Lake because I know it’s true.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it.
“Sir?” Lance asked. “Do you mean to say that you knew about Gwen?”
“Oh yes, I knew about our dear Guinevere,” Taliesin nodded and smiled. He actually smiled.
“But sir, I hold no judgment against yours but they still deserve to be punished, right? Hiding a werewolf and not turning it in and not confessing, that’s a crime, right?” Lake asked, her determination to see them go through a beating or something like that won over her shock and fear that it would never happen.
“Yes, Misters DuLac and Pendragon have done wrong in the eyes of the school this time and countless other times, I’m sure. We just don’t know about it. So, you two and Misses Lefay and Leodegrance will suffer detention for the next month every other day,” Taliesin said.
“Detention?” Lake jumped to her feet. “But they should be expelled! And you said it yourself that they did things that the school didn’t know about. Who knows what they could be? Knowing them, they’d be disastrous things!”
“Shut up, you filthy Slytherin, why don’t you play with your little Death Eater friends?” Arthur felt the words escape from his mouth before he could stop them.
Lake’s face drained of colour until he was sure that if she stood next to the Grey Lady, he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. She looked like she was going to cry but thought better of it and masked it by looking angry, instead. She said, “If you’ll excuse me, sir,” to Taliesin, turned on her heel and went her way.
Arthur and Lance made a move of doing the same but Taliesin stopped them. “Please wait, gentlemen. I’d rather talk to you about the current situation.”
The boys looked to each other but, regardless, they followed Taliesin to his desk, seeing the odd bird in the cage at one side of the room, a gleaming creature of red and gold. Arthur remembered his lessons in Care of Magical Creatures, this was a phoenix and they were really rare. He almost wondered how Taliesin got a hold of one but thought better of it. He was Taliesin, after all.
There were a lot of things that caught his eye. There was this lighter thing (or at least it looked liked it) and it was shining like a star. A glass he knew was the Foe-Glass, from the books his father had about Dark objects. Arthur wished he could just stay here forever and look through Taliesin’s books that would, no doubt, contain interesting things, not like the books used in their lessons. It was times like these where he was so sure he was going to grow up to be Auror.
“I just want you to know that what you’re doing with Guinevere, it’s noble and very brave. No one else would’ve dared to do the same,” Taliesin sat down on his chair.
“But you did. You let her into the school. No one else would’ve done that, either,” Lance said. “We’re grateful, sir, because we’d be worse off if she didn’t come into our lives.”
“I must ask, however, why did you do it? Why did you help her when so many others could so easily turn their faces to such a cause?” Taliesin asked.
“I’m sorry, sir, but that isn’t a question for us. We’re the best of friends and if one of us in trouble or in danger, we help them. That’s what friends do, that’s what decent human beings do,” Arthur said defensively. “The people that wouldn’t help her are prejudiced jerks, if you’ll excuse my language. Most of the world is made up of them. We’re just trying to do something good and right.”
“I mean, with You-Know-Who slowly gaining power, we need all of the good and right we can get. I know they’re trying to keep it in the dark, but we know. We know more than we should,” Lance nodded. Arthur knew that he was talking about his family, how it ended for him and how it was going to end for them.
“What if I told you that she was gaining power? Nimueh?” Taliesin asked as Arthur and Lance physically flinched at the sound of her name. “Do not be scared of the name, boys, it only increases the misplaced fear of her herself. And what if I told you that there was a group of people that were determined to see her lose?”
“Well, I’d say that I’d wanna join that group of people,” Arthur said excitedly and Lance agreed enthusiastically.
“Not now, boys, you’re too young. But you have what I need. Ideals and good ones. You and Misses Lefay and Leodegrance, I’m sure,” Taliesin smiled.
“But we want to fight!”
“Fight you shall, when you learn enough. When you are grown enough. You are children for now but fighters in the future, do you understand? Do not let anything stop you from our ideals, do not forget the fight, do not ever forget why you did what you did for Guinevere because you’ll be doing that for others, for deserving innocents. Do not stop being exactly who you are because who you are is exactly the kind of people we need to save the world.”
Suddenly, Arthur felt a weight on him that he’d never felt before, a kind of responsibility. Not to say that he’d never been responsible in his lifetime, because he had, with his friends and some of his studies, but it was just that it wasn’t just them anymore. It wasn’t just assumptions that You-Know-Who -for he couldn’t bring himself to speak her name yet- was gaining power because she actually was.
This war was real. And, if Taliesin was telling the truth, that there was a group of people that was dedicated to the cause of fighting her, then they would be joining it soon. They would have to fight and the comfort they’d found here, among hallways and corridors and children -because that was what they were- would be gone.
What else would be gone? Wars were difficult, he knew from his mother’s history lessons on Muggle wars, how the world was torn apart from it and how they would lose more than they would gain. “But in the end we would gain,” his mother had reassured him. Was he ready for that kind of responsibility?
Arthur decided that he had to be.
“Can you do that, boys?” the Headmaster asked.
“Yeah, I think so, yeah,” Lance said nervously. Perhaps he felt what Arthur felt, too.
“And you, Arthur?”
“Yes, I can do that.”
It looked like he’d signed up for this war before it even started.
Obviously, the first person Arthur wanted to tell about the news of this new Order was Merlin but Taliesin told them not to tell anyone until it was time. Time for what? He didn’t know. But Emrys and him weren’t exactly friends yet. What were they, actually?
They weren’t boyfriends -not yet, at least- and they certainly didn’t spend enough time like they did last year to be considered friends. But Merlin controlled a major part of him.
“Hey, Emrys,” Arthur caught up to him after class (most of which he spent looking at him unashamedly, now that his friends knew. Though the girls fawned over his love for Merlin and it was annoying).
“Arthur,” Merlin practically gritted it through his teeth.
“What’s with the tone?” Arthur asked.
“You ruin my life on a daily basis, am I supposed to take another kind of tone?”
“I was an arse. I know I was,” Arthur stepped in front of him, stopping the other boy from walking away. “I made a lot of mistakes. Especially with Freya.”
Merlin looked at him, surprised he would bring up such a thing, like it was a taboo, an unspoken rule to not speak of that again.
“If I hadn’t…” Arthur paused, trying to find the right words. He didn’t. “Then maybe, maybe you’d still have a best friend.”
“You know not everything’s about you, right?” Merlin asked, clearly angrier than he was before. “You’re annoying, Arthur Pendragon. Did you ever think that sending so many flowers and chocolate to my room would send the signal that I was a girl? I’m not one of your conquests, Arthur.”
“I’m sorry!” Arthur called out as Merlin started walking away again. “I just- I’m not good with the whole romance thing and they say that you should give them flowers and chocolates but they were probably talking about girls. But you know what I’m trying to say with those flowers and chocolates, don’t you?”
“Yeah, that you like me.”
“And I’m not gonna stop because you haven’t denied that you like me, too.”
Merlin’s entire face changed with that statement because it was true. He blushed and Arthur wondered how far that blush went. He covered up his smile with a cough. Arthur knew, Arthur knew all of his tricks and he couldn’t hide with them anymore. Because Merlin liked him back.
Arthur was not going to stop until he got a straight yes or no.
“I like books,” Merlin said shyly. “You know, for future reference.”
“Okay, books, yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Have a happy Christmas, Arthur.”
“You, too, Emr-I mean, Merlin.”
In that moment, the war didn’t exist, there would be no war when he left the Academy, because the boy he was falling in love with him just gave him the most genuine, the most beautiful smile he’d seen in a long time.
Merlin began to see sadness in the school. Perhaps it was the fact that more murders were happening and people were grieving the people they may or may not have known, perhaps it was the fact that their Christmas season had not been very fruitful.
He began to see changes in his friends, as well. They all walked cautiously, as if they were scared they would trigger a dungbomb -or something worse- with their steps.
Arthur and his gang carried themselves like they carried something heavy on their shoulders, a sort of responsibility. Although that didn’t mean Arthur stopped, for lack of a better word, flirting with him. At least, now, he was getting it right. No more flowers and chocolate but instead things with substance. Books and conversation, that was what Merlin really wanted from him.
And Freya, she stopped being persistent. Before the break, she kept trying to be his friend and then wishing him Happy Birthday as if nothing happened. Now, however, she sulked and shot murderous glances at Arthur and only talked when she was spoken to. She lurked with her Slytherin crowd and was almost in glee when they bullied kids. Honestly, Merlin didn’t know when she’d stopped being Freya.
What he was worried about the most, however, was that Percy hadn’t contacted him since before Christmas break. Usually, he’d send letters or presents through the mail. Sure, a present came through with a merry note but it had gone through the Muggle mail before break and took a little longer. He knew because he had called the office and called Percy, trying to thank him for the book -Healing and all its Magical Uses- to no avail.
Surely he was alright. He wasn’t Muggle-born, or even half-blood, his family came from a long line of purebloods so obviously he would be fine. No one would come and murder him in the night or in the cabin he told Merlin his family normally went to during school breaks. But that didn’t mean Merlin stopped worrying.
At the start of the new term, all the sixth-years were to take obligatory Apparating classes in the Great Hall during the weekends. Merlin was quite excited for this. It’d be easier to travel and, although Percy said it was hard and it hurt at first, it was fun.
Tregor and Aulfric gathered all of them down. They were dressed in normal clothes, their meddlesome robes out of the way so that it would be easier to practice. Merlin saw Elena one corner of the room and waved. Gilli stood next to Merlin and he could almost feel his nervousness.
“Okay, students, gather round,” Tregor said cheerfully as Aulfric looked at all of them like they were scum, like he always did. “In front of you, there is a small ring. I want you to clear your mind and think of Apparating into the ring. Nothing else, just think about it and we’ll see how that progresses.”
He could see the disappointment in the other students’ faces. They had all expected to be able to Apparate on the first try and go somewhere useful, like to Hogsmeade or something. Merlin wasn’t like that, this small ring was a good start. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.
In a few seconds, he realized that wouldn’t happen. Arthur and Lance came late, as always, and Merlin could hear Arthur’s voice as he apologized to Tregor with his eyes closed, along with the sound of clothes shuffling as Arthur settled next to him. Good lord, how was he supposed to concentrate with Arthur standing in such close proximity to him?
Merlin wanted to lie to himself and say that Arthur didn’t have much of a hold on him but he couldn’t even do that. He opened one of his eyes to look at him only to see him looking back. Merlin felt the heat accumulating in his cheeks as Arthur came closer. Before he knew it, his fingers were brushing against his.
“Stop it,” Merlin whispered.
Arthur gave a low laugh, almost to say, “Nope,” with the movement of his fingers against the flesh of his hand.
“Attacks! There’s been more attacks!” someone yelled, entering the Great Hall with a loud bang. It was a seventh-year, waving the Daily Prophet in his hands. At the sound of the word ‘attacks’ everyone gasped and Merlin found himself holding Arthur’s hand for dear life.
“Students! Calm yourselves!” Tregor yelled, trying to control the crowd who circled around the seventh-years. She took the paper from the boy’s hands and read it aloud. She wanted to know, too, he knew it. At this point, everyone was invested.
“’There was a gruesome murder that happened in the shy, beaches of Cornwall. Three families were killed using the Killing Curse, one of them was made up of a wizard with Muggle-born parents while the others consisted of normal wizarding families. Witnesses report that they tried to stop whoever it was that was killing the Muggle-born family. Those sacrificed in this mindless slaughter include George and Anya Gray, 43 and 52 respectively, along with their 18-year-old son Percival, who was a seventh-year in the prestigious Academy.”
The rest of the article was lost, at least to him.
His head spun and his balance was lost. Percy was gone. Percy was gone. His best friend -that was what he was, there were no other words for him- was gone. He could feel everyone staring at him, he felt the heat from their gazes but only felt coldness in Arthur’s hand, a hand he was holding and gripping hard. He let it fall from his grasp and ran.
Ran like the day he met Percy only, this time, there wouldn’t be a Percy to stop him and hold him in his arms and comfort him.
But he should’ve known there would be an Arthur.
“It’s real now, it’s real. They took Percy,” Merlin managed to say in between sobs on Arthur’s shoulder. This was embarrassing, just crying here in an empty hallway on your not-so-boyfriend’s shoulder while he held your wracking body. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Hey, look at me,” Arthur’s hands found his face and urged it to look up to his, look into his eyes that conveyed the courage he needed. “You know what to do. You fight. You fight for Percy and fight for yourself. Don’t give up, you hear me? No one has a right to do that right now.”
“But-”
“Don’t ever give up.” His finger caressed the side of Merlin’s face. Kisses weren’t as intimate as this, just touching and reassurance and seeing the other person break only to put them back together again.
“Yes,” Merlin said.
“Yes?”
“Just, you. Yes to you. At least I think so.”
“Shut up, Emrys, we don’t have to talk about us right now. There are more important things.”
“I know,” Merlin nodded. Percy was more important, his death was more important, the realness and fear of this war was more important. But that didn’t make this any less important.
Percival’s death didn’t really rock the school to its core, it was the fact that it happened. A young, pureblood family was slaughtered and if they didn’t survive, who was to say any of them would?
Sure, they had a memorial for him, where Merlin had to go up and say a few words about his best friend that was lost. Arthur told him not to say much about the war and how this was actually You-Know-Who at work, but no one would ever remember his name, other than as that pureblood guy who got killed. No one cared about Percy but everyone cared about what happened to him.
Was this what the war was going to do to them? Every single one of them would die and get killed for the cause and then become obsolete?
After the memorial, after all the candles were burnt out, after Arthur’s hand became sweaty from Merlin holding it so much, Merlin couldn’t help it anymore. He hadn’t spoken to the Dragon in over a year -there were more important things to deal with, after all, and there was nothing the Dragon could say that he didn’t know already- and, now, with the sudden turn of events, he had to.
He was amazed he still knew the way.
“Hey there,” Merlin said to the Dragon head on the wall. The dragon yawned, opening his eyes. It took a while for it to look at Merlin and recognize him for the young man he put a destiny on.
“Emrys,” the Dragon said with a tone of -what was that? Happiness?- an emotion he didn’t know the Dragon had.
“Hi.”
“You said that already.”
“Yeah, I guessed I did,” Merlin gave a weak laugh. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Arthur’s good, he’s fine and I’m protecting him. But the war’s starting. No one’s safe anymore.”
“Were they ever?”
“No, I am not taking your philosophical crap. This is real. They killed my friend and now everyone’s planning. Everyone’s taking sides. And my boyfriend and his friends -well, I think he’s my boyfriend, I don’t know, this is the first time I’ve called him that and it sounds weird because all we’ve done is hold hands and smile at each other and I’ve cried on his shoulder- they’re planning, too. They think I don’t know. But they keep talking about some kind of Order.”
“Young warlock,” the Dragon sighed. “Is there a point to this?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” Merlin groaned and leaned against the hard wall. Pause. “Did you know that Arthur is my sort of-boyfriend?”
The Dragon started laughing heartily and Merlin felt the heat everywhere in his body as he blushed. It was like admitting that you had a thing for the guy your friends set you up with, a date you never wanted.
“Excellent,” the Dragon said. If it had hands, Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that it would clap a thundering sort of applause.
“Shut up.”
“You should know, Emrys, that you don’t just help Arthur. You don’t just protect him. You are meant to be part of his life and if his life means fighting the war, then you have to fight alongside him. That’s the way things have been written. Merlin and Arthur, Arthur and Merlin. And I have the suspicion that you don’t mind anymore.”
“Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t mind. Not anymore,” Merlin shook his head and smiled to himself.
When he looked up, he saw that the Dragon was doing the same. He wondered what it was when it had been a full Dragon, had it been feared or admired? Or both? He wondered how he ended up as a only a dragon head, how he ended up telling young students to protect other young students in the form of stubborn arses.
“I should go,” Merlin twiddled his thumbs. “Arthur will be expecting me.”
“Of course. Good luck, young warlock,” it said. It almost looked sad. Maybe the war affected him, too, through it affecting Merlin and Arthur. He surely needed luck.
PART SEVEN