Harry Potter/Merlin - PG, pre-slash
Title: were you lost, I would be
Fandom: Harry Potter/Merlin (BBC)/Arthurian legend
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson.
Warnings: AU for Harry Potter; future! and reincarnation!fic for Merlin; has not been picked through for Americanisms
Pairings: none stated (totally preslash for Merlin/Arthur, though)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 4475
Point of view: third
The first thing the Hat ever said to him was, That time already?
He said back, What? He was the first wizard in the family, but he’d known all his life there was something different about him. Getting his letter had been a relief, even though only Professor McGonagall’s visit had proven he wasn’t mad.
You have the mind of a Ravenclaw, the Hat mused. You are as brave as a Gryffindor, and as loyal as a Hufflepuff, if you find someone worthy of your loyalty. But, I see, my very young friend - you are cunning, and want to master everything, and will sacrifice whatever is necessary to protect that which is yours.
He wondered if he should be ashamed, to have it all laid so bare, and the Hat said, No. You will need all your strengths for what is to come.
What’s to come? he asked, but the Hat ignored the question to announce, You, Emrys Donahue, are a “SLYTHERIN!”, shouting the last word for the whole hall to hear. Professor McGonagall pulled the Hat off his head.
He was nervous, a feeling he was unused to, and far more excited than he could ever remember being, but beneath that, he felt expectant. Like he was waiting for something, but he had no idea what.
The blond Hufflepuff, Arthur Cornwallis, sorted right before him smiled as he walked past. Emrys smiled back, for a reason he couldn’t explain. He usually avoided interacting with his fellow students. They never liked him.
Headmaster Dumbledore talked about Defense Against the Dark Arts professors and Triwizard Tournaments, but Emrys focused on his food and remembering everything he’d read. His wand hummed in the wrist holster his father insisted on, and something murmured in the back of his mind, though he couldn’t make out the words.
Arthur Cornwallis caught his eye again. The boy listened intently to his tablemates, but he looked up meeting Emrys’ gaze. He nodded; Emrys nodded back before turning to ask his fellow first year about Triwizard Tournaments. Only one book he’d read mentioned them.
The magic he tried at home came easier without a wand - accidental magic, all the books said. A child’s magic. The kind he’d done all his life. The wand was easy, too, but just telling things what he wanted them to do was easier still. Which the books said was impossible.
Of course, most of the modern history texts he’d read after discovering this new world also said Slytherin was the house of evil, which he knew wasn’t right, so. He’d take the books with a grain of salt and find his own way.
The prefects stood and ordered the first years to follow them, so Emrys did. He was excited again, and wondered what all waited in store for him.
The stones beneath his feet and over his head and lining the walls all hummed as he passed, and the portraits stared or inclined their heads, and he knew where every secret passage and hidden room was.
He figured everyone else felt the same and disregarded it.
.
Emrys didn’t really make any friends until a month into school. He’d learned by that point that he was the only muggleborn in Slytherin; there were a few halfbloods, though they kept quiet about it. His favorite class was Potions because he actually had to work at it. It wasn’t as easy Charms or Transfiguration, and didn’t make as much sense as Herbology. For History of Magic, he just read the book (all the books, actually) and practiced silently casting during Binns’ lectures.
But he had no friends. The students had been preparing for the Triwizard Tournament and the Slytherins stuck to themselves inside their quarters. Emrys was a first year with no political power at all. He didn’t care, though. He had never needed nor wanted anyone.
But a month in, Emrys was heading to lunch when he head scuffling in a little-used corridor. He’d been taking the long way to get wherever he needed to go, exploring. The castle was fascinating, and he never got lost unless he wanted to be, and even then, he knew where he was. That had been true before Hogwarts. Strange things always happened around him. Most of them, he intentionally caused.
Emrys turned the corner to see three large Gryffindors surrounding a lone Hufflepuff - the blond from the Welcoming Feast. Arthur Cornwallis. He glared at the Gryffindors, hands clenched at his sides, chin jutting out defiantly.
“Look at the duffer firstie, tryin’ to be brave,” one of the Gryffindors jeered, poking Arthur in the shoulder.
“I think he’s braver than you,” Emrys said, not even considering it. He’d never done anything like it - always kept to himself and let everyone else alone.
The Gryffindors and Arthur looked over; the same Gryffindor said, “And now a snake!” He laughed derisively, his fellows joining in.
“Three - what, fifth? - three fifth years against a lone Hufflepuff firstie?” Emrys asked, not even reaching for his wand. He’d do better without it. “That’s not bravery, my friends,” he said, turning friend into a slur. “That’s cowardice.” He sneered, tilting his head and looking each of them in the eye. “I’m disappointed in the house of the courageous, if the Hat put you lot in there.”
Oh, but that galled them. Emrys smiled. The secret passage behind Arthur opened and he fell backwards. Emrys lunged past the bullies and through the doorway as it slid shut.
“What just happened?” Arthur asked, slumped on the ground. The candles on the wall were lit, so Emrys saw his gobsmacked expression.
Emrys grinned, exhilarated. “I just made my first enemies!” he said, delighted.
.
Arthur was a pureblood, though his family never paraded around, flaunting it like some did. He explained it dismissively as, “We’re no one’s Ancient and Noble House, but we stretch back a ways.” He grinned a bit. “There’s even a legend that King Arthur was one of ours - I’m named for him, you know.”
His mother worked at the Ministry, something to do with the Unspeakables (“Of course, I can’t talk about it!”) and his father owned a chain of bookstores that provided all sorts of books Flourish and Blotts refused to carry. Arthur was quiet and somewhat reserved, but he stood his ground and saw things through. “Mum was a Slytherin,” he said. “Dad, a Ravenclaw.” He shrugged. “I’m happy being a badger, though.”
He did tell Emrys, with all the bravado of an eleven-year-old boy, “I didn’t need to be rescued.”
Emrys nodded, looking at his bright blue eyes and golden hair. He could almost see a crown, just for a moment. A crown would fit on Arthur’s head, like it had never been anywhere else. “I know,” he said. “But I needed to save you.”
How odd. He’d never felt the inclination for anyone else.
.
Nothing kept Emrys at the Slytherin table during meals save it being his House, so with no fanfare and little forethought, he followed Arthur to the Hufflepuffs when they finally got to lunch. All of the kids nearby stared, but Arthur told the one right next to him, “Budge over.”
The boy did, and Emrys sat.
Arthur asked Emrys a question about their Transfiguration homework. After Emrys answered with a clear and concise explanation, another boy asked a different question. He answered that, too.
Lunch was fun, after that. And Emrys had his first friend.
.
The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, did not care what a first year, no name Slytherin did. While most of the students were concerned with the Triwizard Tournament and Harry Potter being named champion, three fifth year Gryffindors tried to make Emrys’ life difficult. During lunch, dinner, anytime they saw him in the hall - like they had nothing better to do than stalk a firstie.
Things might have kept on like that, too, except for Arthur. Most of the students would have thought the Slytherin had done something to earn being tormented - possibly just being in Slytherin - but Arthur, in the middle of the corridor on the way to Potions, stepped in front of Emrys and told the older boys to leave him alone.
Naturally, they went for him and then the rest of the Hufflepuffs got involved. Because the bullies were cowards at heart, they backed off, but Emrys was adopted by the Hufflepuffs.
Arthur’s yearmates, in particular, seemed to take to Emrys. None of them were stupid by any means, but magic still came frighteningly easily to Emrys; he remembered everything he read, so he could explain snags first years hit in their lessons. Only Arthur knew that Emrys ‘borrowed’ upper year texts. He also asked his father for the books Emrys requested.
“You’re very good for a muggleborn,” Arthur had told him, that first day they met, after dinner. They were in the library, Arthur reading over Emrys’ Potions essay. Potions was also Arthur’s favorite, but his because he was a natural.
“Thanks,” Emrys said, looking up from his book about Merlin. “Could you keep that to yourself, maybe?”
“Of course,” Arthur replied, sounding slightly affronted.
.
As the first Triwizard Tournament task approached, the halls were practically choking with excitement. The only person who didn’t seem to care was Emrys. But a few nights before, he couldn’t sleep: he heard something calling his name.
No. He focused on it and it became clearer - multiple things were calling his name. interesting.
He snuck out of the dorm and then the common room. He considered fetching Arthur, but ultimately decided it’d be easier to protect himself than two people, should the adventure go badly. He hurried soundlessly through the castle, going from secret passage to secret passage, and then he was outside. The call was even louder, echoing from his mind down to his bones.
Whatever was calling him probably had to do with the Triwizard Tournament. He had no idea where he was going, but he went past the Forbidden Forest (which was next on his list to explore) and then hit a large, sand-blasted arena, which had not been there, last time he checked.
Past the arena was a pen of dragons. They were all looking at him, all drugged, and their wings chained shut.
Just seeing it pissed him off, the most visceral reaction he’d ever had in his life.
Hello, Dragonlord, he heard in his head, a chorus of four voices.
“Hi,” he replied. “How… you’re dragons.”
“Quite astute of you to notice,” said the oldest, sounding a bit slurred. I’ll speak like this. It is… easier. A pause while she studied him. We are for the First Task. They will try to steal our eggs.
Yes, Emrys could feel it now. All of them were female and full of eggs, about to lay. Why haven’t you left? he asked, trying to speak with his mind.
It worked, because the same dragon scoffed. You believe we haven’t tried? We are bound by magic and iron. She lowered her head. So few dragons remain… we are easy to keep.
Emrys shook his head. That’s wrong! he said fiercely, his anger thrumming through his veins. You shouldn’t be chained.
For just a moment he saw the magic wrapped around them. He reached out and snapped it; the chains fell off. The dragons shuddered as fire engulfed them, burning the poison from their veins. After it faded, they spread their wings and stretched each of their limbs.
You… you release us? the smallest dragon asked hesitantly.
Yes, Emrys said. He felt small bursts of magic exploding, but had no idea what it was. He focused on the dragons as the two who hadn’t spoken took to the air.
Call us, Dragonlord, said the oldest solemnly, and we will come.
“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.
“Yes,” the smallest replied aloud, sounding excited and young, delicately flapping her wings. “We all know of it, but only a few know the way. Thank you!”
The smallest followed the others, leaving only the oldest and Emrys. “You should tell no one of this, Dragonlord,” she said. Wizards think us no more than dumb beasts. None of them can hear us, and so none of us speak to them. The last of your kind died long ago.
My kind? he asked, stepping closer as an alarm sounded.
My mother’s mother’s sire spoke of a legend, she said. A warlock named Merlin.
“We have legends of him, too!” Emrys interrupted. “I’ve been reading about him.”
Someone shouted. The dragon told Emrys, Return to the castle. They cannot know you freed us.
Will I be able to talk to you again? he asked sadly.
She lowered her head, gently bumping him with her giant nose. Any dragon in the world will gladly obey you, Lord Emrys, she said and then lunged into the air, roaring.
More voices shouted and spells chased after the dragons. Emrys kept all from hitting them. After the dragons were out of sight, he turned and rushed back to the castle.
.
At breakfast, all anyone could talk about was the escape of the dragons. Every dragon in the UK had vanished overnight, even the ones at Gringotts. The papers had a great deal of speculation but no reasons or facts beyond the obvious.
Arthur looked from the headline to Emrys, a question on his face.
Emrys smiled.
As the end of breakfast neared, Headmaster Dumbledore stood. The students instantly went silent. “Champions, stay after breakfast for more information. The rest of you, dismissed.”
Arthur grabbed Emrys’ wrist and hissed, “What did you do? How did you do it?”
“Later,” Emrys muttered. “Meet me by the vicious tree after lunch.”
Nodding, Arthur let go.
The dragon had told him to keep it to himself, but Arthur was special. Besides, he might be able to explain why what Emrys had done was such a big deal.
.
“The dragons spoke to you?” Arthur demanded, dropping his sandwich.
“Yeah,” Emrys replied. “They were chained and bound with magic and actual chains, so I got rid of both.”
“You… you got rid of - ” Arthur repeated incredulously. “Emrys, every dragon in Britain is gone. Do you know what kind of power that would take?”
Emrys shrugged. “It was wrong,” he said shortly. “It was wrong, so I stopped it.”
“Magic doesn’t work like that!” Arthur exclaimed. “Dragons don’t talk. Firsties can’t - everything you do is impossible, did you know that?”
Emrys laughed. “It was impossible before Hogwarts sent me a letter,” he corrected. “Now, it’s just magic.”
Arthur shook his head. “D’you know where they went or what they’ll do?” he asked, picking his sandwich back up.
“Not a clue,” Emrys answered. “But it’ll be better than what they left.”
They ate in silence for a moment, until Arthur asked quietly, “Was it truly that bad?”
Emrys nodded. “It was awful,” he said, thinking about the chains, and the magic, and the way the smallest dragon flinched. How awkwardly she flew away, like it had been a long time since she’d flown at all.
He felt small explosions again, far away, and knew what the next day’s headlines would be.
.
The next day’s headlines announced that every dragon in the world had vanished. No one claimed credit for it. All the dragon reserves were empty. All the hunting grounds were abandoned. All the cages were barren.
The dragons were gone and magic couldn’t find them.
Arthur stared at Emrys during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but he didn’t ask. That night, after a day of no lessons because the dragons’ freedom was apparently a Very Big Deal, Emrys pulled his curtains closed, told his magic to make sure no sound got out, shut his eyes, and reached out, as far as he could.
And there she was. Lord Emrys, the old dragon rumbled. Do you need us?
I just wanted to talk, he said, smiling. Are you all safe?
Yes, Lord, she replied. All have come. Our home is well stocked with prey, for no dragon has been here in a very long time. We will rest and grow stronger.
Where are you? he asked, curious. The papers said the greatest wizard in the world couldn’t find you.
She laughed. The greatest wizard in the world just did.
Emrys opened his eyes in shock and accidently asked aloud, “What?”
We simply call it The Isle, she explained, laughter in her voice. The last dragonlord sealed it off for us, a sanctuary for when the world ran out of room for dragons. But we forgot the way when he died and no lord was left to show it to us.
But then how did you find it? He poured more power into their connection and she made room, letting him see out of her eyes: dragons were sunbathing, swimming, flying. Thousands of them. Every dragon in the world.
The Dragonlord Emrys , the dragon said, set us free and asked if we had anywhere to go. Four of us heard the stories as dragonets and led the way home.
Emrys sank back into himself. What I can do… it’s not normal for a wizard, is it?
No, my lord, she said. The only thing normal about you is your confusion. Rest now, she murmured, and he felt a little nudge against his magic. It felt like his mother’s kiss to his forehead, when he was younger and allowed it. Learn magic the way everyone else uses it. Then she added, not so gently, And for pity’s sake, child, don’t tell anybody else!
Emrys closed their connection with a laugh. When he woke the next morning, the only dream he remembered was being bent low over a dragon’s neck, wind in his hair, lightning flaring from his fingertips.
.
Instead of whatever they had planed involving dragons, the First Task required the four champions to retrieve a golden egg protected by enchantments. The quickest time won.
Viktor Krum from Durmstrang came in first at just under half an hour. Next, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons and Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory were tied at forty-five and a half minutes.
Harry Potter’s time actually beat the others’, but he lost points for not breaking the spells with magic - he simply walked up to the pedestal and grabbed the egg.
He was the only one Emrys cheered for.
.
School continued apace. Emrys went home for holidays, studied sixth-year texts, chatted with Aithusan (named after her great-grandfather, she said, the last dragon to know a dragonlord), and tutored everyone who asked. He ate with the Hufflepuffs, attended class with the Slytherins, and felt happy only while near Arthur or talking to Aithusan.
The more he used his magic, the easier it was. His wand had become completely for show. In February, right before the Second Task, watching Arthur and the rest of the students he tutored studying, it struck Emrys how alien he was compared to them. They memorized spells to force a small bolt of magic down a wooden stick.
He broke the magical chains binding every dragon in the world. And only now that he was thinking about it - he was eleven years old and the only dragonlord. He couldn’t - could he actually be a wizard? Aithusan promised no other wizard could do what he did - so he wasn’t a wizard. He had to be something else.
He didn’t mention his fear to Arthur, too scared that his first and only friend would turn away.
.
The Second Task was boring, so Emrys spoke to Aithusan throughout it. Harry Potter had the longest time but earned points for bringing up someone else’s prize, too.
“They kidnapped people?” Arthur demanded, aghast. “That’s horrible! Left at the bottom of the lake!”
Emrys glanced at him, then down at the pier, where the prizes were being escorted away, fussed over by Madam Pomfrey.
He’d be furious, if someone he cared for were taken away and hidden. He’d be beyond furious, all the way into livid. All for some sort of competition? What kind of place was this magical world?
Aithusan? he asked. Is there some sort of ward or spell I could place on someone to always keep them safe?
Of course, she replied. Tell your magic what you want and it shall be done.
… right, he thought, listening to Arthur harangue his housemates about the unbecoming misuse of public office. Emrys spared him a glance at that, while Eleanor spoke over him, explaining how none of those words meant what he seemed to think.
Wizards used the Fidelius Charm and Protego shields and runes. But Emrys was not a wizard, was he? His relationship to magic was completely different. He felt the wards around Hogwarts and heard wands hum as they obeyed their masters.
His magic sounded different. Loud and quiet at the same time. Deeper and older. So much older. Older than Hogwarts.
Which made sense, he supposed. He was a dragonlord. He probably shared the same magic as the previous ones, and they lived thousands of years ago. His dragonlord magic was older than Hogwarts, and that gave him a thrill, since Hogwarts was so welcoming and fascinating.
I just… tell my magic to keep someone safe? he asked.
Yes, little lord, Aithusan said.
He watched Arthur, still complaining about the Task and how irresponsible it was. A few of the older students had gotten involved and a nearby Ravenclaw chimed in with historical facts of previous Tournaments.
Emrys knew the stories about making wishes. Everything had to be phrased perfectly so that nothing got twisted and went wrong. But Emrys’ magic… it did what he wanted. It was him, at the most basic level.
And he wanted Arthur safe.
“You alright, mate?” Arthur asked, glancing over at him. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m fine,” Emrys murmured.
Arthur blinked at him, then glanced up at the overcast sky. “Odd,” he said. “It looked like the sun hit your eyes, made ‘em gold.”
Emrys shrugged. “Didn’t seem particularly bright to me.”
“C’mon, you two,” Kevin called. “We need to go help congratulate Ced. Ethan and Danielle planned the party!”
The Hufflepuffs really seemed to have forgotten Emrys wasn’t one of them. He enjoyed it; at primary school, kids had avoided him. But Arthur seemed determined to include Emrys in everything and the Hufflepuffs just cheerfully made room for him.
Arthur had somehow quickly become Emrys’ entire world. Never before in his life had Emrys had a friend, someone he liked being around - someone he actually sought out and tried to impress. Not since he was very young, with his parents.
So as he walked with the Hufflepuffs back to their common room, he told his magic, Keep Arthur safe. No matter what.
Arthur said, “Your eyes just went gold again. Should we go see Madam Pomfrey?”
“No,” Emrys said. “It’s probably just the light.”
.
Emrys didn’t really notice time passing; he moved on from school texts to the professional level and still mastered things so easily Arthur just watched in awe.
Except, master was not the right word. He didn’t worry about the theory behind the spells or the incantations. He told his magic what he wanted and it happened. He knew the other students were different; so were the professors. And the authors whose books he devoured.
He learned enough of the course material to explain anything that tripped up his yearmates, and he could recall every word he read.
But he didn’t master anything, really. He just did what he wanted and ignored all the rules that said he couldn’t, and simply grinned whenever Arthur said, “It doesn’t work that way!”
.
The Third Task involved a maze, monsters, and a portkey.
.
At the Leaving Feast, Headmaster Dumbledore informed them all about someone called Voldemort. Emrys recalled the name from the modern history books he read before school started: a very powerful wizard who either wanted to rule the world or destroy it. Who hated anyone without magic, and anyone related to anyone without magic. And also anyone who didn’t fall into line with his rhetoric.
Aithusan, he asked, scooting a little closer to Arthur, could I deal with Voldemort?
Yes, she replied without hesitation. You have more than enough magical strength.
Emrys looked at Arthur; a quick check revealed that Emrys’ magic still completely covered him. It would be there until Emrys took it away.
Voldemort wouldn’t be Emrys’ problem unless he did something to Arthur or either of their families, so Emrys decided not to worry about it. He told his magic to protect them all, to be safe.
.
During the ride back to London, Arthur and Emrys finalized their plans for the summer - meet-ups and study dates and teaching each other about their respective worlds.
Emrys would take him to The Isle at some point. He knew Arthur would love the dragons.
“I’ll see you in a week,” Arthur said as they separated, going towards their parents.
“Yes,” Emrys agreed, strengthening his protection on Arthur one more time.
He’d never had a friend before, and he wanted to keep Arthur forever.
Aithusan murmured, You will, my lord.
Arthur waved once more, as he walked away with his parents. Emrys’ mother pulled him into a hug and then steered him towards the exit. She had a thousand questions, excited and anxious in turn.
Emrys answered, telling her about the Hufflepuffs, the Tournament, lessons, and Arthur. He spoke the whole drive home, and through dinner, and the next morning at breakfast.
When he fell silent, Mum said, “I’m so glad you’re finally happy, love.”
Dad nodded. “That school’s been good for you, son.”
Emrys smiled down at his plate. He was happy, and Hogwarts had been good for him.
He wasn’t a wizard. He still had no idea what he was (maybe dragonlords were just a different kind of wizard?), but he’d be visiting the dragons tomorrow, and he’d introduce Arthur to them later in the summer, and there was nothing in the world he couldn’t do.
“Tell me what I’ve missed this year,” he said.
Mum and Dad shared a shocked look, but Mum started, and Emrys listened.
.
He dreamed of a sword and a red dragon, of fire and blood, of Arthur - older and haggard and falling. Of a white dragon shrieking and a witch saying, You’ll come back, Merlin. You will.
He woke up, blinked at the ceiling as everything faded but the white dragon, and fell back asleep.
This time, he dreamed of Arthur riding a sleek black dragon, a sword in one hand and his wand in the other, and Emrys flying beside him, held aloft only by his magic, and the world feared and adored them in equal measure, and everything was theirs.
It was a good dream, and he woke grinning. He’d be seeing Arthur today.
First summer
Fandom: Harry Potter/Merlin (BBC)/Arthurian legend
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson.
Warnings: AU for Harry Potter; future! and reincarnation!fic for Merlin; has not been picked through for Americanisms
Pairings: none stated (totally preslash for Merlin/Arthur, though)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 4475
Point of view: third
The first thing the Hat ever said to him was, That time already?
He said back, What? He was the first wizard in the family, but he’d known all his life there was something different about him. Getting his letter had been a relief, even though only Professor McGonagall’s visit had proven he wasn’t mad.
You have the mind of a Ravenclaw, the Hat mused. You are as brave as a Gryffindor, and as loyal as a Hufflepuff, if you find someone worthy of your loyalty. But, I see, my very young friend - you are cunning, and want to master everything, and will sacrifice whatever is necessary to protect that which is yours.
He wondered if he should be ashamed, to have it all laid so bare, and the Hat said, No. You will need all your strengths for what is to come.
What’s to come? he asked, but the Hat ignored the question to announce, You, Emrys Donahue, are a “SLYTHERIN!”, shouting the last word for the whole hall to hear. Professor McGonagall pulled the Hat off his head.
He was nervous, a feeling he was unused to, and far more excited than he could ever remember being, but beneath that, he felt expectant. Like he was waiting for something, but he had no idea what.
The blond Hufflepuff, Arthur Cornwallis, sorted right before him smiled as he walked past. Emrys smiled back, for a reason he couldn’t explain. He usually avoided interacting with his fellow students. They never liked him.
Headmaster Dumbledore talked about Defense Against the Dark Arts professors and Triwizard Tournaments, but Emrys focused on his food and remembering everything he’d read. His wand hummed in the wrist holster his father insisted on, and something murmured in the back of his mind, though he couldn’t make out the words.
Arthur Cornwallis caught his eye again. The boy listened intently to his tablemates, but he looked up meeting Emrys’ gaze. He nodded; Emrys nodded back before turning to ask his fellow first year about Triwizard Tournaments. Only one book he’d read mentioned them.
The magic he tried at home came easier without a wand - accidental magic, all the books said. A child’s magic. The kind he’d done all his life. The wand was easy, too, but just telling things what he wanted them to do was easier still. Which the books said was impossible.
Of course, most of the modern history texts he’d read after discovering this new world also said Slytherin was the house of evil, which he knew wasn’t right, so. He’d take the books with a grain of salt and find his own way.
The prefects stood and ordered the first years to follow them, so Emrys did. He was excited again, and wondered what all waited in store for him.
The stones beneath his feet and over his head and lining the walls all hummed as he passed, and the portraits stared or inclined their heads, and he knew where every secret passage and hidden room was.
He figured everyone else felt the same and disregarded it.
.
Emrys didn’t really make any friends until a month into school. He’d learned by that point that he was the only muggleborn in Slytherin; there were a few halfbloods, though they kept quiet about it. His favorite class was Potions because he actually had to work at it. It wasn’t as easy Charms or Transfiguration, and didn’t make as much sense as Herbology. For History of Magic, he just read the book (all the books, actually) and practiced silently casting during Binns’ lectures.
But he had no friends. The students had been preparing for the Triwizard Tournament and the Slytherins stuck to themselves inside their quarters. Emrys was a first year with no political power at all. He didn’t care, though. He had never needed nor wanted anyone.
But a month in, Emrys was heading to lunch when he head scuffling in a little-used corridor. He’d been taking the long way to get wherever he needed to go, exploring. The castle was fascinating, and he never got lost unless he wanted to be, and even then, he knew where he was. That had been true before Hogwarts. Strange things always happened around him. Most of them, he intentionally caused.
Emrys turned the corner to see three large Gryffindors surrounding a lone Hufflepuff - the blond from the Welcoming Feast. Arthur Cornwallis. He glared at the Gryffindors, hands clenched at his sides, chin jutting out defiantly.
“Look at the duffer firstie, tryin’ to be brave,” one of the Gryffindors jeered, poking Arthur in the shoulder.
“I think he’s braver than you,” Emrys said, not even considering it. He’d never done anything like it - always kept to himself and let everyone else alone.
The Gryffindors and Arthur looked over; the same Gryffindor said, “And now a snake!” He laughed derisively, his fellows joining in.
“Three - what, fifth? - three fifth years against a lone Hufflepuff firstie?” Emrys asked, not even reaching for his wand. He’d do better without it. “That’s not bravery, my friends,” he said, turning friend into a slur. “That’s cowardice.” He sneered, tilting his head and looking each of them in the eye. “I’m disappointed in the house of the courageous, if the Hat put you lot in there.”
Oh, but that galled them. Emrys smiled. The secret passage behind Arthur opened and he fell backwards. Emrys lunged past the bullies and through the doorway as it slid shut.
“What just happened?” Arthur asked, slumped on the ground. The candles on the wall were lit, so Emrys saw his gobsmacked expression.
Emrys grinned, exhilarated. “I just made my first enemies!” he said, delighted.
.
Arthur was a pureblood, though his family never paraded around, flaunting it like some did. He explained it dismissively as, “We’re no one’s Ancient and Noble House, but we stretch back a ways.” He grinned a bit. “There’s even a legend that King Arthur was one of ours - I’m named for him, you know.”
His mother worked at the Ministry, something to do with the Unspeakables (“Of course, I can’t talk about it!”) and his father owned a chain of bookstores that provided all sorts of books Flourish and Blotts refused to carry. Arthur was quiet and somewhat reserved, but he stood his ground and saw things through. “Mum was a Slytherin,” he said. “Dad, a Ravenclaw.” He shrugged. “I’m happy being a badger, though.”
He did tell Emrys, with all the bravado of an eleven-year-old boy, “I didn’t need to be rescued.”
Emrys nodded, looking at his bright blue eyes and golden hair. He could almost see a crown, just for a moment. A crown would fit on Arthur’s head, like it had never been anywhere else. “I know,” he said. “But I needed to save you.”
How odd. He’d never felt the inclination for anyone else.
.
Nothing kept Emrys at the Slytherin table during meals save it being his House, so with no fanfare and little forethought, he followed Arthur to the Hufflepuffs when they finally got to lunch. All of the kids nearby stared, but Arthur told the one right next to him, “Budge over.”
The boy did, and Emrys sat.
Arthur asked Emrys a question about their Transfiguration homework. After Emrys answered with a clear and concise explanation, another boy asked a different question. He answered that, too.
Lunch was fun, after that. And Emrys had his first friend.
.
The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, did not care what a first year, no name Slytherin did. While most of the students were concerned with the Triwizard Tournament and Harry Potter being named champion, three fifth year Gryffindors tried to make Emrys’ life difficult. During lunch, dinner, anytime they saw him in the hall - like they had nothing better to do than stalk a firstie.
Things might have kept on like that, too, except for Arthur. Most of the students would have thought the Slytherin had done something to earn being tormented - possibly just being in Slytherin - but Arthur, in the middle of the corridor on the way to Potions, stepped in front of Emrys and told the older boys to leave him alone.
Naturally, they went for him and then the rest of the Hufflepuffs got involved. Because the bullies were cowards at heart, they backed off, but Emrys was adopted by the Hufflepuffs.
Arthur’s yearmates, in particular, seemed to take to Emrys. None of them were stupid by any means, but magic still came frighteningly easily to Emrys; he remembered everything he read, so he could explain snags first years hit in their lessons. Only Arthur knew that Emrys ‘borrowed’ upper year texts. He also asked his father for the books Emrys requested.
“You’re very good for a muggleborn,” Arthur had told him, that first day they met, after dinner. They were in the library, Arthur reading over Emrys’ Potions essay. Potions was also Arthur’s favorite, but his because he was a natural.
“Thanks,” Emrys said, looking up from his book about Merlin. “Could you keep that to yourself, maybe?”
“Of course,” Arthur replied, sounding slightly affronted.
.
As the first Triwizard Tournament task approached, the halls were practically choking with excitement. The only person who didn’t seem to care was Emrys. But a few nights before, he couldn’t sleep: he heard something calling his name.
No. He focused on it and it became clearer - multiple things were calling his name. interesting.
He snuck out of the dorm and then the common room. He considered fetching Arthur, but ultimately decided it’d be easier to protect himself than two people, should the adventure go badly. He hurried soundlessly through the castle, going from secret passage to secret passage, and then he was outside. The call was even louder, echoing from his mind down to his bones.
Whatever was calling him probably had to do with the Triwizard Tournament. He had no idea where he was going, but he went past the Forbidden Forest (which was next on his list to explore) and then hit a large, sand-blasted arena, which had not been there, last time he checked.
Past the arena was a pen of dragons. They were all looking at him, all drugged, and their wings chained shut.
Just seeing it pissed him off, the most visceral reaction he’d ever had in his life.
Hello, Dragonlord, he heard in his head, a chorus of four voices.
“Hi,” he replied. “How… you’re dragons.”
“Quite astute of you to notice,” said the oldest, sounding a bit slurred. I’ll speak like this. It is… easier. A pause while she studied him. We are for the First Task. They will try to steal our eggs.
Yes, Emrys could feel it now. All of them were female and full of eggs, about to lay. Why haven’t you left? he asked, trying to speak with his mind.
It worked, because the same dragon scoffed. You believe we haven’t tried? We are bound by magic and iron. She lowered her head. So few dragons remain… we are easy to keep.
Emrys shook his head. That’s wrong! he said fiercely, his anger thrumming through his veins. You shouldn’t be chained.
For just a moment he saw the magic wrapped around them. He reached out and snapped it; the chains fell off. The dragons shuddered as fire engulfed them, burning the poison from their veins. After it faded, they spread their wings and stretched each of their limbs.
You… you release us? the smallest dragon asked hesitantly.
Yes, Emrys said. He felt small bursts of magic exploding, but had no idea what it was. He focused on the dragons as the two who hadn’t spoken took to the air.
Call us, Dragonlord, said the oldest solemnly, and we will come.
“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.
“Yes,” the smallest replied aloud, sounding excited and young, delicately flapping her wings. “We all know of it, but only a few know the way. Thank you!”
The smallest followed the others, leaving only the oldest and Emrys. “You should tell no one of this, Dragonlord,” she said. Wizards think us no more than dumb beasts. None of them can hear us, and so none of us speak to them. The last of your kind died long ago.
My kind? he asked, stepping closer as an alarm sounded.
My mother’s mother’s sire spoke of a legend, she said. A warlock named Merlin.
“We have legends of him, too!” Emrys interrupted. “I’ve been reading about him.”
Someone shouted. The dragon told Emrys, Return to the castle. They cannot know you freed us.
Will I be able to talk to you again? he asked sadly.
She lowered her head, gently bumping him with her giant nose. Any dragon in the world will gladly obey you, Lord Emrys, she said and then lunged into the air, roaring.
More voices shouted and spells chased after the dragons. Emrys kept all from hitting them. After the dragons were out of sight, he turned and rushed back to the castle.
.
At breakfast, all anyone could talk about was the escape of the dragons. Every dragon in the UK had vanished overnight, even the ones at Gringotts. The papers had a great deal of speculation but no reasons or facts beyond the obvious.
Arthur looked from the headline to Emrys, a question on his face.
Emrys smiled.
As the end of breakfast neared, Headmaster Dumbledore stood. The students instantly went silent. “Champions, stay after breakfast for more information. The rest of you, dismissed.”
Arthur grabbed Emrys’ wrist and hissed, “What did you do? How did you do it?”
“Later,” Emrys muttered. “Meet me by the vicious tree after lunch.”
Nodding, Arthur let go.
The dragon had told him to keep it to himself, but Arthur was special. Besides, he might be able to explain why what Emrys had done was such a big deal.
.
“The dragons spoke to you?” Arthur demanded, dropping his sandwich.
“Yeah,” Emrys replied. “They were chained and bound with magic and actual chains, so I got rid of both.”
“You… you got rid of - ” Arthur repeated incredulously. “Emrys, every dragon in Britain is gone. Do you know what kind of power that would take?”
Emrys shrugged. “It was wrong,” he said shortly. “It was wrong, so I stopped it.”
“Magic doesn’t work like that!” Arthur exclaimed. “Dragons don’t talk. Firsties can’t - everything you do is impossible, did you know that?”
Emrys laughed. “It was impossible before Hogwarts sent me a letter,” he corrected. “Now, it’s just magic.”
Arthur shook his head. “D’you know where they went or what they’ll do?” he asked, picking his sandwich back up.
“Not a clue,” Emrys answered. “But it’ll be better than what they left.”
They ate in silence for a moment, until Arthur asked quietly, “Was it truly that bad?”
Emrys nodded. “It was awful,” he said, thinking about the chains, and the magic, and the way the smallest dragon flinched. How awkwardly she flew away, like it had been a long time since she’d flown at all.
He felt small explosions again, far away, and knew what the next day’s headlines would be.
.
The next day’s headlines announced that every dragon in the world had vanished. No one claimed credit for it. All the dragon reserves were empty. All the hunting grounds were abandoned. All the cages were barren.
The dragons were gone and magic couldn’t find them.
Arthur stared at Emrys during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but he didn’t ask. That night, after a day of no lessons because the dragons’ freedom was apparently a Very Big Deal, Emrys pulled his curtains closed, told his magic to make sure no sound got out, shut his eyes, and reached out, as far as he could.
And there she was. Lord Emrys, the old dragon rumbled. Do you need us?
I just wanted to talk, he said, smiling. Are you all safe?
Yes, Lord, she replied. All have come. Our home is well stocked with prey, for no dragon has been here in a very long time. We will rest and grow stronger.
Where are you? he asked, curious. The papers said the greatest wizard in the world couldn’t find you.
She laughed. The greatest wizard in the world just did.
Emrys opened his eyes in shock and accidently asked aloud, “What?”
We simply call it The Isle, she explained, laughter in her voice. The last dragonlord sealed it off for us, a sanctuary for when the world ran out of room for dragons. But we forgot the way when he died and no lord was left to show it to us.
But then how did you find it? He poured more power into their connection and she made room, letting him see out of her eyes: dragons were sunbathing, swimming, flying. Thousands of them. Every dragon in the world.
The Dragonlord Emrys , the dragon said, set us free and asked if we had anywhere to go. Four of us heard the stories as dragonets and led the way home.
Emrys sank back into himself. What I can do… it’s not normal for a wizard, is it?
No, my lord, she said. The only thing normal about you is your confusion. Rest now, she murmured, and he felt a little nudge against his magic. It felt like his mother’s kiss to his forehead, when he was younger and allowed it. Learn magic the way everyone else uses it. Then she added, not so gently, And for pity’s sake, child, don’t tell anybody else!
Emrys closed their connection with a laugh. When he woke the next morning, the only dream he remembered was being bent low over a dragon’s neck, wind in his hair, lightning flaring from his fingertips.
.
Instead of whatever they had planed involving dragons, the First Task required the four champions to retrieve a golden egg protected by enchantments. The quickest time won.
Viktor Krum from Durmstrang came in first at just under half an hour. Next, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons and Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory were tied at forty-five and a half minutes.
Harry Potter’s time actually beat the others’, but he lost points for not breaking the spells with magic - he simply walked up to the pedestal and grabbed the egg.
He was the only one Emrys cheered for.
.
School continued apace. Emrys went home for holidays, studied sixth-year texts, chatted with Aithusan (named after her great-grandfather, she said, the last dragon to know a dragonlord), and tutored everyone who asked. He ate with the Hufflepuffs, attended class with the Slytherins, and felt happy only while near Arthur or talking to Aithusan.
The more he used his magic, the easier it was. His wand had become completely for show. In February, right before the Second Task, watching Arthur and the rest of the students he tutored studying, it struck Emrys how alien he was compared to them. They memorized spells to force a small bolt of magic down a wooden stick.
He broke the magical chains binding every dragon in the world. And only now that he was thinking about it - he was eleven years old and the only dragonlord. He couldn’t - could he actually be a wizard? Aithusan promised no other wizard could do what he did - so he wasn’t a wizard. He had to be something else.
He didn’t mention his fear to Arthur, too scared that his first and only friend would turn away.
.
The Second Task was boring, so Emrys spoke to Aithusan throughout it. Harry Potter had the longest time but earned points for bringing up someone else’s prize, too.
“They kidnapped people?” Arthur demanded, aghast. “That’s horrible! Left at the bottom of the lake!”
Emrys glanced at him, then down at the pier, where the prizes were being escorted away, fussed over by Madam Pomfrey.
He’d be furious, if someone he cared for were taken away and hidden. He’d be beyond furious, all the way into livid. All for some sort of competition? What kind of place was this magical world?
Aithusan? he asked. Is there some sort of ward or spell I could place on someone to always keep them safe?
Of course, she replied. Tell your magic what you want and it shall be done.
… right, he thought, listening to Arthur harangue his housemates about the unbecoming misuse of public office. Emrys spared him a glance at that, while Eleanor spoke over him, explaining how none of those words meant what he seemed to think.
Wizards used the Fidelius Charm and Protego shields and runes. But Emrys was not a wizard, was he? His relationship to magic was completely different. He felt the wards around Hogwarts and heard wands hum as they obeyed their masters.
His magic sounded different. Loud and quiet at the same time. Deeper and older. So much older. Older than Hogwarts.
Which made sense, he supposed. He was a dragonlord. He probably shared the same magic as the previous ones, and they lived thousands of years ago. His dragonlord magic was older than Hogwarts, and that gave him a thrill, since Hogwarts was so welcoming and fascinating.
I just… tell my magic to keep someone safe? he asked.
Yes, little lord, Aithusan said.
He watched Arthur, still complaining about the Task and how irresponsible it was. A few of the older students had gotten involved and a nearby Ravenclaw chimed in with historical facts of previous Tournaments.
Emrys knew the stories about making wishes. Everything had to be phrased perfectly so that nothing got twisted and went wrong. But Emrys’ magic… it did what he wanted. It was him, at the most basic level.
And he wanted Arthur safe.
“You alright, mate?” Arthur asked, glancing over at him. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m fine,” Emrys murmured.
Arthur blinked at him, then glanced up at the overcast sky. “Odd,” he said. “It looked like the sun hit your eyes, made ‘em gold.”
Emrys shrugged. “Didn’t seem particularly bright to me.”
“C’mon, you two,” Kevin called. “We need to go help congratulate Ced. Ethan and Danielle planned the party!”
The Hufflepuffs really seemed to have forgotten Emrys wasn’t one of them. He enjoyed it; at primary school, kids had avoided him. But Arthur seemed determined to include Emrys in everything and the Hufflepuffs just cheerfully made room for him.
Arthur had somehow quickly become Emrys’ entire world. Never before in his life had Emrys had a friend, someone he liked being around - someone he actually sought out and tried to impress. Not since he was very young, with his parents.
So as he walked with the Hufflepuffs back to their common room, he told his magic, Keep Arthur safe. No matter what.
Arthur said, “Your eyes just went gold again. Should we go see Madam Pomfrey?”
“No,” Emrys said. “It’s probably just the light.”
.
Emrys didn’t really notice time passing; he moved on from school texts to the professional level and still mastered things so easily Arthur just watched in awe.
Except, master was not the right word. He didn’t worry about the theory behind the spells or the incantations. He told his magic what he wanted and it happened. He knew the other students were different; so were the professors. And the authors whose books he devoured.
He learned enough of the course material to explain anything that tripped up his yearmates, and he could recall every word he read.
But he didn’t master anything, really. He just did what he wanted and ignored all the rules that said he couldn’t, and simply grinned whenever Arthur said, “It doesn’t work that way!”
.
The Third Task involved a maze, monsters, and a portkey.
.
At the Leaving Feast, Headmaster Dumbledore informed them all about someone called Voldemort. Emrys recalled the name from the modern history books he read before school started: a very powerful wizard who either wanted to rule the world or destroy it. Who hated anyone without magic, and anyone related to anyone without magic. And also anyone who didn’t fall into line with his rhetoric.
Aithusan, he asked, scooting a little closer to Arthur, could I deal with Voldemort?
Yes, she replied without hesitation. You have more than enough magical strength.
Emrys looked at Arthur; a quick check revealed that Emrys’ magic still completely covered him. It would be there until Emrys took it away.
Voldemort wouldn’t be Emrys’ problem unless he did something to Arthur or either of their families, so Emrys decided not to worry about it. He told his magic to protect them all, to be safe.
.
During the ride back to London, Arthur and Emrys finalized their plans for the summer - meet-ups and study dates and teaching each other about their respective worlds.
Emrys would take him to The Isle at some point. He knew Arthur would love the dragons.
“I’ll see you in a week,” Arthur said as they separated, going towards their parents.
“Yes,” Emrys agreed, strengthening his protection on Arthur one more time.
He’d never had a friend before, and he wanted to keep Arthur forever.
Aithusan murmured, You will, my lord.
Arthur waved once more, as he walked away with his parents. Emrys’ mother pulled him into a hug and then steered him towards the exit. She had a thousand questions, excited and anxious in turn.
Emrys answered, telling her about the Hufflepuffs, the Tournament, lessons, and Arthur. He spoke the whole drive home, and through dinner, and the next morning at breakfast.
When he fell silent, Mum said, “I’m so glad you’re finally happy, love.”
Dad nodded. “That school’s been good for you, son.”
Emrys smiled down at his plate. He was happy, and Hogwarts had been good for him.
He wasn’t a wizard. He still had no idea what he was (maybe dragonlords were just a different kind of wizard?), but he’d be visiting the dragons tomorrow, and he’d introduce Arthur to them later in the summer, and there was nothing in the world he couldn’t do.
“Tell me what I’ve missed this year,” he said.
Mum and Dad shared a shocked look, but Mum started, and Emrys listened.
.
He dreamed of a sword and a red dragon, of fire and blood, of Arthur - older and haggard and falling. Of a white dragon shrieking and a witch saying, You’ll come back, Merlin. You will.
He woke up, blinked at the ceiling as everything faded but the white dragon, and fell back asleep.
This time, he dreamed of Arthur riding a sleek black dragon, a sword in one hand and his wand in the other, and Emrys flying beside him, held aloft only by his magic, and the world feared and adored them in equal measure, and everything was theirs.
It was a good dream, and he woke grinning. He’d be seeing Arthur today.
First summer