FIC: I love you, my poncy brown-nosing arsehole. (Merlin/Harry Potter)
Author: Georgia (Merlin'sGeekyFan)
Synopsis: Lovers turned rivals strive for normalcy, meanwhile the rest of Hogwarts is worried about contagious madness.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Warnings: None but sillyness.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 720
Special Notices: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY WONDERFUL
draig_glas!!!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin or Harry Potter, but if I did I would give you all a penny every week. Soon we would all be rich.
“So, I see you’re still a destiny-stalked geek. I’d have thought the hair would improve though.”
“Shut it Malf- Arthur, need I point out you’re still an utter prat? And getting blonder every second it seems.”
Merlin paced the room of requirement, churning over the prophecy Professor Dumbledore had just thrown onto his shoulders. Why did these crazy destinies always seem to follow him? Couldn’t it for once be some other scrawny dark haired nobody? Apparently not, else he wouldn’t be stood in a room with his former lover turned arch rival lamenting his own bad luck.
“Potter?” Arthur asked carefully.
“Don’t call me that!” Merlin cried, turning sharply to glare at Arthur, pink blooming in blotchy stains along his cheeks. “I’m not Harry Potter, not anymore! And you are not Draco bloody Malfoy, got that?! I don’t want to hate you but when we go back outside we have to don’t we?!”
Arthur darted forwards, enveloping Merlin’s now shorter frame - and hadn’t he been delighted about that when they’d finally remembered - into his arms and cooed complete nonsense to the trembling boy’s much too small ears.
“We’ll figure something out, you’ll see, it’ll be fine.” Merlin shook his head against Arthur’s now damp robes, nose nudging against the strong chest beneath him.
“No it won’t. We can’t be friends here Arthur, it’ll seem too strange. How can we just go on as if we don’t know?”
“We wont, we’ll act as we always did in Camelot.” Merlin balked, face drained of colour as he pulled back to stare worriedly at Arthur. Maybe the sudden onslaught of memories had knocked the last of his common sense out of his ears?
“Arthur… are you feeling alright? We can’t just go around being friends, people will get suspicious!” Arthur’s grey eyes - just as beautiful and striking as their blue forefathers - twinkled cunningly, shining with pure Slytherin.
Arthur planted a quick kiss on Merlin’s lips and swept out of the Room of Requirement with a swish of robes, though all Merlin saw was a long-gone red cloak. Merlin stumbled out after him, adjusting his askew glasses and hoping to… well, himself, that Arthur didn’t screw this up too badly.
---
Nothing particularly noticeable happened for a long while, the usual malice that passed between ‘Harry’ and ‘Draco’ had simmered to a casual teasing, and Slytherin’s were conspicuously absent from Harry’s life, no doubt thanks to a certain blonde.
It was only four weeks after they had remembered their past selves when Merlin knew everything would be just fine, with or without Dark Lord’s chasing after him every day and night.
Already seated at the Gryffindor table, Merlin picked slowly at his breakfast while Ron ranted about the “filthy, cheating, dirty, swindling bloody scumbags”, also known as the Holyhead Harpy’s who had recently thrashed the Chudley Canon’s. Behind him Merlin heard the familiar drawling chatter of his favourite Slytherin and restrained himself from bounding over to snog him senseless then and there.
As Arthur and his loyal band of brainless housemates passed he threw a patented Malfoy smirk to Merlin and called with too much banter and not nearly enough spite; “Morning Idiot!”
“Mornin’ Prat!” Merlin called back easily, grinning too brightly and happily. They were bound to be noticed for that. And sure enough…
“Harry? What the hell was that?! You two are better than that, go over there and tell him he’s a poncy brown-nosing arsehole!” Hermione scrunched her nose and began an almost perfunctory lecture to Ron on “the importance of house unity” and “the great effort Harry was making”.
Merlin chuckled and straightened his glasses, glancing swiftly over to the Slytherin’s table. Arthur smirked back at him, mockingly framing his eyes with finger-glasses and mouthing quite clearly “Love you, idiot.” Feeling a little too confident for his own good but too elated to care Merlin stood, pushing away strands of his messy black hair and slinging his school bag onto his shoulder.
“Love you too Malfoy!” He shouted over the heads of the Great Hall. He quickly scarpered away, leaving a red-faced Arthur to face the music.
That would teach him for all those nights in the stocks, but there was still much vengeance to be had. He’d have to ask Dobby if he could whip up a rat stew…
Synopsis: Lovers turned rivals strive for normalcy, meanwhile the rest of Hogwarts is worried about contagious madness.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Warnings: None but sillyness.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 720
Special Notices: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY WONDERFUL
draig_glas!!!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin or Harry Potter, but if I did I would give you all a penny every week. Soon we would all be rich.
“So, I see you’re still a destiny-stalked geek. I’d have thought the hair would improve though.”
“Shut it Malf- Arthur, need I point out you’re still an utter prat? And getting blonder every second it seems.”
Merlin paced the room of requirement, churning over the prophecy Professor Dumbledore had just thrown onto his shoulders. Why did these crazy destinies always seem to follow him? Couldn’t it for once be some other scrawny dark haired nobody? Apparently not, else he wouldn’t be stood in a room with his former lover turned arch rival lamenting his own bad luck.
“Potter?” Arthur asked carefully.
“Don’t call me that!” Merlin cried, turning sharply to glare at Arthur, pink blooming in blotchy stains along his cheeks. “I’m not Harry Potter, not anymore! And you are not Draco bloody Malfoy, got that?! I don’t want to hate you but when we go back outside we have to don’t we?!”
Arthur darted forwards, enveloping Merlin’s now shorter frame - and hadn’t he been delighted about that when they’d finally remembered - into his arms and cooed complete nonsense to the trembling boy’s much too small ears.
“We’ll figure something out, you’ll see, it’ll be fine.” Merlin shook his head against Arthur’s now damp robes, nose nudging against the strong chest beneath him.
“No it won’t. We can’t be friends here Arthur, it’ll seem too strange. How can we just go on as if we don’t know?”
“We wont, we’ll act as we always did in Camelot.” Merlin balked, face drained of colour as he pulled back to stare worriedly at Arthur. Maybe the sudden onslaught of memories had knocked the last of his common sense out of his ears?
“Arthur… are you feeling alright? We can’t just go around being friends, people will get suspicious!” Arthur’s grey eyes - just as beautiful and striking as their blue forefathers - twinkled cunningly, shining with pure Slytherin.
Arthur planted a quick kiss on Merlin’s lips and swept out of the Room of Requirement with a swish of robes, though all Merlin saw was a long-gone red cloak. Merlin stumbled out after him, adjusting his askew glasses and hoping to… well, himself, that Arthur didn’t screw this up too badly.
---
Nothing particularly noticeable happened for a long while, the usual malice that passed between ‘Harry’ and ‘Draco’ had simmered to a casual teasing, and Slytherin’s were conspicuously absent from Harry’s life, no doubt thanks to a certain blonde.
It was only four weeks after they had remembered their past selves when Merlin knew everything would be just fine, with or without Dark Lord’s chasing after him every day and night.
Already seated at the Gryffindor table, Merlin picked slowly at his breakfast while Ron ranted about the “filthy, cheating, dirty, swindling bloody scumbags”, also known as the Holyhead Harpy’s who had recently thrashed the Chudley Canon’s. Behind him Merlin heard the familiar drawling chatter of his favourite Slytherin and restrained himself from bounding over to snog him senseless then and there.
As Arthur and his loyal band of brainless housemates passed he threw a patented Malfoy smirk to Merlin and called with too much banter and not nearly enough spite; “Morning Idiot!”
“Mornin’ Prat!” Merlin called back easily, grinning too brightly and happily. They were bound to be noticed for that. And sure enough…
“Harry? What the hell was that?! You two are better than that, go over there and tell him he’s a poncy brown-nosing arsehole!” Hermione scrunched her nose and began an almost perfunctory lecture to Ron on “the importance of house unity” and “the great effort Harry was making”.
Merlin chuckled and straightened his glasses, glancing swiftly over to the Slytherin’s table. Arthur smirked back at him, mockingly framing his eyes with finger-glasses and mouthing quite clearly “Love you, idiot.” Feeling a little too confident for his own good but too elated to care Merlin stood, pushing away strands of his messy black hair and slinging his school bag onto his shoulder.
“Love you too Malfoy!” He shouted over the heads of the Great Hall. He quickly scarpered away, leaving a red-faced Arthur to face the music.
That would teach him for all those nights in the stocks, but there was still much vengeance to be had. He’d have to ask Dobby if he could whip up a rat stew…