So this is going to be my first multi-chaptered crossover. Its only gonna be about 9-10 chapters at the most, but I'm really enjoying writing this at the moment, so we'll see where it goes. Don't be put off by the Merlin/Hermione pairing, it will eventually be Merthur.
I just needed some sort of emotional relief from the Merlin finale. Enjoy, review, and as always, don't be mean.
Deexx
She wasn't sure how long she'd been stood outside wrapped in her duvet, or of the exact moment when she'd lost the feeling in her feet that were only covered by thin socks, but she knew that for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.
The cold caressed her cheeks, her breath turning to curling, chaotic patterns of condensation after immediately escaping her chapped lips. She swallowed to wet her throat, a stray strand of hair flickering in the very small breeze. For a second, she closed her eyes, feeling the moonlight on her skin, and taking in the Bristol winter night air and when she opened her eyes, they settled on the brightest star, clearer than ever tonight. A smile crept its way up the corners of her mouth and she nodded, pulling the duvet tighter around her.
"Happy Birthday Sirius," she said softly at the star, a single tear dripping down her cheek, landing on the hand clutching the fabric to her chest.
All these years and she'd never really taken the time out to observe just how stunning and twinkling the star was in it's own right. And now, three years after the war had ended, she watched it through an adult's eyes; changed much from the naive little girl she had once been, into a University student Mastering in Arthurian Legends and English Literature.
And on this day, she was unsure as to what had awoken her at three in the morning on a Saturday, just that she was a very nostalgic kind of lonely and had spotted the stars from her window. Of course, Hermione had never been able to resist the beautiful and miraculous, and so this was what had drawn her from the comfortable confines of her bed out onto the balcony of her student flat, cocooned in her bed covers, staring wondrously up at her old friend's star.
And as she'd looked more and more at this particular star, she'd remembered fleetingly, that it was Sirius' birthday and the words from the letter he'd left to her in the event of his death.
'Should you remember over the years that it is the anniversary of my birth, also remember that you were loved by me, and that you made my life a happy one, and there's no tragedy in that'
It was this line that was on a loop through her brain, and these words that had conjured the soft, single tear from the ducts of her eyes. She'd never been close to Sirius to any big significance, but she most certainly had cared about him, and this line in the letter had proven that he had cared for her in turn.
"I hope you're happy," she choked gently, the words only slightly strained in her throat "and I hope you're still a bitter old bastard with your stupid over-active ego and prick" she grinned, shaking her head in fondness before tilting it to the side a little, frowning slightly "have a drink on me old man, and don't forget to be just as cheeky and childish as you always were," she said with finality, drawing in a final, deep, sharp breath and settling herself leaning forward against the bars of the balcony, appreciating the clarity of the pitch black.
"Oh, sorry, I was a million miles away for a moment," she exclaimed, blinking a few times to get her vision back properly, leaning down to help the guy she'd knocked into with picking his books back up.
"It's fine, honestly; I couldn't have been paying too much attention to where I was going either, otherwise I'd have seen you," a clear, well rounded English accent responded as they stood slowly and she passed him the journals she'd managed to gather from the floor for him. She had to do a double take for a second because blimey, this man was... well, he was definitely something.
He was about the same height as her, lean and pale with dark hair and striking cool blue eyes and soft lips. His cheekbones were prominent, and he looked about nineteen; yes, he had to be her age at least.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't think I know your name; are you in one of my classes?" she asked, still a little flustered. It was not very often that Hermione was particularly attracted to anyone, especially after the fiasco with Ron the previous summer; so it was something to be noted if she had to stop and gain thought process again when looking at someone for only a few seconds. He did look briefly familiar though, hence the question as to what he was studying and whether they shared any courses.
"Right, uhh, yes; yes I think I'm in your Arthurian legends lecture on a Monday morning"
"And Wednesday," she added, nodding with interest, nibbling her bottom lip with a small nervous smile. She had to remember how to breathe properly when he smiled back. God, he really was... well, she didn't really think there was a word for it. He wasn't necessarily conventionally handsome, but he did have a beautifully bright smile.
"Yeah, Professor Calbre; I remember, you sit in the middle of the lecture hall with that girl Cassie," he nodded, holding out a hesitant hand for her to shake.
"That's right, and I think you sit near the front on the left by the whiteboard," she managed, shifting around on her feet, suddenly finding herself unable to keep still.
"Sure. You like that class?" he asked and she could feel the charming awkwardness flickering between them upon only just meeting properly. It was rare that her palms became sweaty but she nodded enthusiastically nonetheless.
"Oh yes, I find it fascinating," she said with fervour. There was a small moment of silence that had them both laughing and looking up at the ceiling.
"Well hey, maybe we could get a coffee sometime after one of the lectures," she ended up just grinning awkwardly, unable to help herself smiling so widely. He nodded, squinting one eye, still chuckling.
"Sure, that would be great," he agreed, putting the last of his books in his leather side bad and throwing it over his shoulder.
"I'll- see you later then," she said and he nodded again, flashing her another quick bashfull grin before ungracefully slipping passed her and walking down the corridor. She frowned as he turned the corner though. She'd never caught his name.
"Hermione," Calbre called from his desk at the front of the lecture hall and she looked up from her doodle of a Hippogriff, nodding.
"Here professor," she called back, moving to go back to her sketching before dark hair caught the corner of her eye and she stopped her line of vision, soft naturally pale skin kept it there and the memory of her blunder last week made her mouth smile without permission.
"Oh wow, you're checking that guy out," Cassie grinned dreamily from her seat beside Hermione and she scoffed, brushing it off.
"No I'm not!" Hermione lied, shaking her head and sitting back in her chair, completely distracted from her drawing now. She did however, listen out for when he answered his name. She nearly laughed when she heard it.
"Merlin?" Calbre said and the guy's head moved a little.
"Yes sir," he said quieter, not needing to shout seeing as he was closer to their teacher than she was. It was about another three minutes before the lesson actually started but as she went to writing her notes, she could feel eyes on her and looked up again, trying for the first time not to smile at Merlin, but she couldn't refrain and ended up having to drop her pen on the desk and rub her hands on her jeans because they were getting all sweaty again.
"Told you," Cass whispered from beside her but she simply pouted and glanced once more down at Merlin before picking up her pen again, trying to remember the sentence she'd been trying to structure.
"Bit strange don't you think? That he'd subject himself to an Arthurian Legends class when his name is 'Merlin'?" Hermione said to no one in particular.
"Geez, but his name is like no body elses concern," Cassie said in her far-away tone, raising an eyebrow at Hermione.
"I suppose you're right ... he's just... strange. Something about him... its young, but really, really old at the same time. There's an immaturity there, but he's got some sort of wisdom to him too-" Hermione had to stop herself from talking because she was staring at Merlin again and if she kept doing that then he'd probably get irritated and turn around to tell her to get a camera if she wanted to take a picture of him or something. She actually considered the thought for a second, a picture of him would allow her to study him properly; god no though, she shook her head at herself again, that would be too creepy.
He mostly kept to himself from the information she had to go on, only talked really if he was spoken to first, seemed charismatic enough, smiled wide enough to genuinely be happy sometimes. She supposed he looked like her in that sense though. Even the people surrounded by others could be incredibly lonely, and despite still being content with where she was, she was indeed very alone in her life.
The clothes he wore were a little out of place too. Not that they didn't suit him or anything, just that they seemed as though they were designed in a different era. He had on a dark purple cotton pullover, a brown leather jacket, a red neckerchief, dark brown skin fit jeans tucked in black leather boots. Sometimes he alternated between black jacket and brown, or purple cotton to blue, or black boots to black low-top converses; but he always wore the same type of outfit. It was as though he was holding onto something, something that had been a routine for a very long time.
"Today we'll be discussing the much more watered down side of things. I mean, the legends are all well and violent and there are many different stories and paths, but the story I want to look at today is the constant link between Merlin/Emrys and Arthur.
Now, as we all know, many elements and incidents that are now an integral part of the Arthurian story, appear in Geoffrey's Historia, including Arthur's father Uther Pendragon, the wizard Merlin, Arthur's wife Guinevere, the sword Excalibur, Arthur's conception at Tintagel, his final battle against Mordred at Camlann and final rest in Avalon.
The 12th-century French writer Chrétien de Troyes, who added Lancelot and the Holy Grail to the story, began the genre of Arthurian romance that became a significant strand of medieval literature. In these French stories, the narrative focus often shifts from King Arthur himself to other characters, such as various Knights of the Round table; most famous of which are the tales of how Gwen very nearly ran off with Lancelot but chose to stay in Camelot with Arthur eventually.
Arthurian literature thrived during the Middle Ages but waned in the centuries that followed until it experienced a major resurgence in the 19th century. In the 21st century, the legend lives on, not only in literature but also in adaptations for theatre, film, television, comics and other media.
What I want you to do, seeing as we are simply a day and a half away from the break up for the winter holiday, is find me the most ridiculous tale you can find in the romanticised culture within Athurian Legend. Feedback in fifteen minutes," Calbre grinned, winking at his class once and going back behind his desk to watch his students immediately begin to chat about what he had asked of them and flipping through notebooks and journals for answers.
"Cass, you read a lot of this stuff, what's the weirdest thing you've ever seen?" Hermione asked, opening her own text book, dragging her finger down the glossy contents page and finding the section she was looking for, flicking to the correct page.
"I dunno man, some of that shit is really messed up. Like one time, this girl sent me fanfiction between Gwen and Morgana Pendragon, there's even some cult stuff between Morgana and her half-sister Morgause. Did you know though, that Mordred is actually, in some stories, Morgana's nephew? Yeah he's supposed to be either Morgause's son or her other sister Elaine? There's fanfiction between them too," Cassie sighed, a smile on her face. Hermione stared at her, thoroughly scared for a few moments before smiling back and nodding, gently patting her hand. It wasn't like Cassie understood when people were patronising her anyway.
"Hermione, you got something for us?" Calbre said ten minutes later. Hermione blushed furiously but nodded.
"Sure. I found a couple of comics and fanfiction culture placing Morgana in a love affair with Mordred who is in fact her Nephew in some stories; but mostly it's all really set between Merlin and Arthur," Hermione managed, blushing even further when she caught her Merlin pursing his lips to avoid bursting out in laughter from the corner of her eye.
"Really? Is any of the fanfiction well written?" the Professor asked. She rolled her eyes.
"I wouldn't know professor, Merthur fanfiction isn't really my thin,g" she replied with a small, amused smile. A tiny snicker ran through the lecture theatre and he nodded, smiling back.
"Right, but it springs from somewhere, right? Merlin, why don't you tell us why the Wizard who shared your name and the King of Camelot are written together as a romantic couple?"
"It's just in a much more comfortable society where actually in some parts, homosexuality is favoured over heterosexuality. It's glorified; I mean, there's no reason why it shouldn't be. I can see how it would be tempting to write about the 'servant boy' and his 'master' especially with how much more – uh – materialised BDSM is becoming," he said the last sentence a little awkwardly, earning a laugh from pretty much everyone "I don't see why it isn't entirely plausible, I mean they were still people back then, its very easy to fall in love with your best friends, there are even songs written about that kind of thing now."
"A valid point; but not ridiculous enough Hermione, someone give me something else, something scandalous!" he said, pointing at a student on the other side of the hall. Hermione pretty much drowned out the rest, she was too caught up in the surety of Merlin's voice when he talked of the legendary Arthur Pendragon; like he had known the man his whole life.
"Merlin," she said, catching his arm after class, ignoring the blush on her face when his eyes automatically recognised her and a smile broke out on his face. She pulled his aside from the throng of students pouring down the small staircase coming from the lecture theatre.
"Do you have a free period now?" she asked, deciding that three days of constantly finding herself watching him was enough, and that she needed to have a proper conversation with him.
"Yeah I'm off all afternoon now. Do you- I mean, would you like to get that Coffee now?" he asked, stumbling as usual. She let out a tired sigh but nodded, smiling again and gesturing for him to follow her out of the main History block of the University and out into the town.
"Are you- are you okay?" he asked, frowning at her as they walked. She nodded again, pulling her jacket tighter around her.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, opening the door to Starbucks and stepping aside for him to follow her in.
"Just tea please," she said distractedly at the man behind the counter.
"Name, love?"
"Hermione thanks. Merlin, what are you having?" she asked, holding back a smirk at his rolling eyes when the counter boy raised his eyebrows at Merlin's name.
"Oh, same thank you," he nodded at the guy.
When they were sat down and waiting for their drinks to cool down, she began nibbling her lip in thought.
"You seem to know a lot more about Arthurian Legends than the rest of the kids in our class," Hermione said, sounding impressed. She could tell he'd caught onto her curiosity though and nodded, grinning as he sipped his tea.
"Well I've been studying it for a very long time. Since I can really remember actually," he said, shrugging.
"Are your family into Myth and Lore then?" she asked, genuinely interested. She wanted to know anything that would help her figure out why the hell she was so bloody intrigued by this boy.
"Sort of, I suppose; my mother was never really that interested in it, but my father... well, he was quite... involved with the whole scene," Merlin explained. She hid her frown. There was something he was filtering out, something more to it all. She'd been part of a war for so long, it was very easy for her to pick out when someone was withholding information from her. Still, she understood how social norms worked, she'd have to give to get with Merlin it seemed.
"I sort of grew up knowing about things like this too I guess, but my friends and classmates had never really been that interested no matter how much I tried to inflict it on them," she chuckled. He smiled, nodding again; she was starting to see a pattern here.
"I get what you mean. I think it's just a matter of being a certain person to really be taken up by the lure of history, it's only lately I've been wanting to take it up as a masters; it's interesting to see it from the point of view of others... amusing too," he added on the end, obviously referring to their earlier lesson and the task they'd been set of finding strange romantic pairings within the Arthurian universe.
"Well what do you know about it all?" she asked. He nearly choked on his tea, spluttering and coughing, he put his cup down, brow raised high.
"You want me to tell you everything about the Arthurian Legends?" he breathed incredulously. She half-laughed, nodding enthusiastically, sitting forward closer to look at him properly.
"Yes! I... want to 'hear it from another person's perspective'," she teased, repeating his words at him.
"I don't- I don't really know where to start," he struggled, taken aback by her eagerness and genuine want to hear him talk about the things that people normally called him a nerd for.
"At the start, dummie," she tutted "where you think it all began, where the story came from, how it all happened. I don't know, just- how you picture it in your head," she urged, taking a tiny swig of her drink and giving him her undivided attention. He was still looking at her in awe when he started talking.
"Well I uhh... I guess I think we can assume that Merlin started off being sent to Camelot by his Mother who was worried that news of his 'gifts' would get out. Obviously magic was punishable by death in those days, Uther was ruthless, driven by hatred and ignorance and a bad experience in his earlier days of ruling so letting someone convicted of practicing magic or even conspiring with a sorcerer, live, was not even an option. I mean, I suppose, to give him at least a little credit, he was kind hearted to an extent; he helped who he could if they were innocent and rewarded people for their bravery, chivalry, honesty. They were all qualities he admired," Merlin said, as though he himself had known Uther Pendragon personally. He talked with an enrichment, a depth that she had not seen before, not even on their professor's face. It was like he was telling the story of his own life, like he was stepping into a distant memory, describing what he could see in a pensive filled with his own thoughts.
She couldn't bring herself to interrupt him now.
"But he was bitter and showed no mercy for those whom he had convinced himself were of guilt, he would not listen to reason once he had made up his mind and those around him sometimes payed for it with blood or their lives.
I suppose, from what I've read, Merlin would have walked straight in on something, a hanging, I think or a Warlock being burned at the stake. There are early tales of a witch appearing once the ceremony had been completed, claiming that the dead person was her son, threatening Uther that his own son Arthur shall die in return. He didn't listen of course, and simply allowed celebrations to go on; word tells of a party celebrating the absense of magic in the kingdom for a continued length of time, that's how Merlin and Arthur were first forced together.
Of course, even you know that when they first met, they quarrelled. Arthur must have been bullying a manservant in the courtyard or something. At the time, Merlin had not been aware of Arthur's status and had not filtered his words when telling him to leave the manservant be. He was thrown in the cells for the night, only to have another run in with the Prince the next day, ending up in the stocks having fruit thrown at him. That was when he met Gwen-" he cut himself off, seemingly dealing with some sort of inner turmoil before he swallowed, eyelashes fluttering slightly in conflict before he carried on.
Throughout his version of the legend, Hermione remained enthralled with the way his eyes betrayed his almost every thought, how his hands moved whilst he explained and described things in detail. Arthurian Legend was based a lot on fact and fairytales; but with Merlin telling it right in front of her, she almost believed every word of it all.
She painted a picture in her mind of the events, imagining Arthur to be tall, fit and blonde, a figure of both innocence and insecurity, but also power and bravery. She saw Morgana as a beautifully kind faced young woman rich with compassion and the aristocratic posture of the King's Ward. She envisioned Gwen to be soft featured, nervous but fiery and driven, oblivious to all the sorrow that would soon make her possessor of the royal seal and widowed young Queen of Camelot. Uther was a hard faced man in her mind, older and clever, yet with the common sense and emotional capacity of a nine year old with bitter, sad eyes and intimidating demeanour.
They were like characters out of the books her mother used to read her when she was a small girl, like Rupunzel and Hansel and Gretel; only with no real happily ever after.
"So what do you think happened to Merlin after all that?" she asked, captivated and even more intrigued than ever as she searched his face. His complexion looked even more pale now, as though he had seen a ghost and she could have sworn she saw him repressing shakes and shivers.
"Not sure, there are further tales I suppose, bit like Gandalf in his older years apparently, adventurer... wouldn't that be an ending?" Merlin sighed, smiling sadly "the under-appreciated, heartbroken sorcerer, off on a longer than life adventure, always waiting for his King to return," he said dramatically with a teasing smirk. There was a slight falter behind those words though; there was a falter behind nearly everything he said and it was only making her want to know more.
"Do you think you're related to Merlin? Like it can't just be a coincidence that you got his name and you're this interested in it all?" she inquired, frowning and nibbling her bottom lip again.
"Never bothered to look back; it's- complicated," he tried and she looked at him suspiciously now.
"How complicated?"
"More than you'll ever know," he replied ambiguously, bowing his head for a second.
"You know, it's strange, the more I hear about you, the less I feel like I know," she asseverated, licking her lips to wet them and sitting back a bit now the story was over.
"Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people," he responded, looking at her awkwardly through one eye.
"Merlin, you know I could swear you're a-" but she stopped herself, shaking her head. No. If he was a wizard, she'd know for sure, not just have a niggly feeling. This was different though, like there was something physical, something real drawing her towards him.
"A what?" he said, like he was urging her to say something, begging her to just so that he'd be able to tell her everything; whatever he was hiding, whatever was obviously eating him up inside.
Whatever she knew about Merlin, one thing was key to him, he was absolutely full of guilt. It was hurting him very much and he was very good at concealing it to the passing eye. She had only noticed it because she had been looking without realising. She had seen that look before, worn that look on her own face, watched the look on Harry and Sirius and Ron and George and almost everyone she'd ever known. War brought guilt like that, battle grounds brought that expression upon a person's face and she concluded that she was not going to bring it all up for him today, not when he was quite obviously tired and worn out by something.
"Nothing, I'm sure it's just me," she brushed it off, although she wanted something else clearing up for her as well, something she'd been wondering about for a while "just a thought, if Merlin himself were still alive, and there were still witches and warlocks – just watered down versions – would they feel something? Would they be able to tell that they were in the presence of the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived? The one who started it all, who would have made living in peace possible?" she asked, not sure why she had asked such a question. It wasn't as though he'd know the answer to it any better than she would.
"That would depend on whether he would be trying to hide. He is Emrys after all, thousands of years old Hermione, cleverest person on the planet, most powerful man who ever lived; you think he'd let himself be found if he didn't want to be?" he replied, giving a surprisingly logical answer to such a strange question. Any normal Muggle would have looked at her as though she'd need to be sectioned.
"And what would happen? If the time were to come when Arthur awoke and Merlin went to him? Would they automatically be taken back to their own time?" she added, her brain just going 'what the hell? Why not?' and not filtering anything.
"I suppose so, yes; the Legend says 'Arthur Pendragon shall return when Albion needs him most' I guess it would be on a different time scale, when things are particularly messy in the land of Albion in the seventh century and they're needed as somewhat of a double act again," Merlin said thoughtfully, beginning to glance at her like she was unravelling something and he was suspicious of it.
"Hmm... interesting. You know, this has been nice... it's rare that I talk to anyone outside of lessons anymore," she sighed, smiling at him again because the gloomy direction of their conversation was not going where it should for such a late hour in the afternoon.
"Yes it has been, we should definitely do it more often," he grinned back at her, happy Merlin back as though he had never left. For some reason, his words from earlier echoed in her mind 'you think he'd let himself be found if he didn't want to be?' maybe the Merlin in front of her just didn't want to be found.
"Where will you go now?" she asked as they began to pack up, putting their bags on their shoulders and standing up.
"There's a place I like to go for a couple of hours now and again, just to clear my thoughts; I'm going to go and sit there for a while," he said, lifting the corner of his mouth in an attempt at convincing her something wasn't bothering him. She nodded, wondering for a second whether she should do what she wanted to or not. Eventually, she pushed up quick on her tiptoes and pressed a fast peck to his defined cheekbone, blushing furiously and turning to walk out of the shop by herself. She stopped hesitantly at the doorway and turned to look at him.
"No way," she said, shaking her head "there's no way you're – nevermind. I'll see you tomorrow" she said, flashing him a final look before leaving properly. She didn't know that Merlin would go and sit where the source of everything he lived for located and not move until halfway through the night until he just could not stand sitting anymore.
Three thousand years, and he was still waiting.