Merlin sighed as he got off the train. He was back at Hogwarts, this time not as a student, but as a teacher. It was the fourth time in five centuries that he'd been here. Sadly now, age was catching up to him and he looked too old to be a student, even with the de-ageing spells. He looked too old to teach, but it was one or the other.
"Ah, Professor. How do you do today?"
Merlin turned towards the new Headmistress. The former transfiguration teacher was striding towards him, green cloak flapping in the wind.
"I'm doing well Minerva, how about you?"
"Rebuilding has been hard," she turned towards the castle, "But we've managed."
It ached Merlin to see the castle in ruins. Centuries ago, he'd built the castle in case Arthur returned in the days when he'd still be expected to rules over a land. When those days had passed, Merlin left the country to travel the world, spreading the tales of Arthur Pendragon, the greatest king Albion had ever known.
oO0Oo
As Merlin watched the children being sorted, he was reminded of when he himself had been here as a student. Using his magic, he made himself a child again, allowing him to attend Hogwarts. He was the only person in history to get all four houses.
The first year, he got Slytherin. The urge to find anyway to help Arthur and the knights come back had put him in the house of the ambitious.
When he came back a century later, all of his magic books were destroyed and he had a desire to learn more magic now that his sources were gone. The sorting hat put him in Ravenclaw.
He visited the school once more during the early eighteen hundreds. Due to his loyalty to Camelot and not giving up on his king, he was put in Hufflepuff.
The last time he was at Hogwarts, the second-world war had ended. This time he is was eighteen, and he told the headmaster that he was not able to attend before due to the fact that there was a war going on. For volunteering to fight, he spent his last year in Gryffindor. The thoughts ended when the headmistress announced that the feast would eagerly dug into chicken, mashed potatoes, peas and pumpkin juice. He limited himself to only one slice of the pie that the house elves made that was so much like the pies in Camelot.
"Let me introduce to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor
Emrys. He will be taking over my position as Head of Gryffindor House. I hope you will treat him with as much respect as you treated me."
Everyone clapped politely as Merlin shakily stood up, but he could tell it was half-hearted. Everyone was still upset about the war. Merlin could see the empty chairs from students who would not return.
"He will also," she continued, "Will be teaching a class called Camelot: A History of King Arthur. It is a class that you may sign up for, but only if you can balance another elective. Dropping classes is not an option."
At this there was some muttering coming from the students. This was a course never offered before.
oO0Oo
After a week of teaching, Merlin had started to settle into a routine: Breakfast, Teach 1&2 years DADA, Teach 3&4 years DADA, Spare, Lunch, Teach 5&6 years DADA, Teach 7&8 DADA, Teach the Camelot course, Dinner.
His spares were usually spent down beside the lake, talking to Freya. The immortal gate-keeper had told him that Arthur's time was coming soon, but Merlin was losing hope. He had spent the centuries protecting the land of England, once called Albion, waiting for Arthur to return. But Arthur had not risen in the hundreds years war, not the world wars or even for the fall of Camelot. He began to doubt that Arthur would ever rise again.
His old bone cracking, he got off his knees and walked back up to the castle for lunch.
He didn't notice the slight rippling of the lake behind him.
oO0Oo
It was the anniversary of Arthur's death and Merlin was tying the knot in his red neckerchief. He wondered briefly what the other teachers would think about his choice of clothes, but soon dismissed it. Today it was much more important to remind himself or where he came from than follow a dress code.
The class with the third and fourth years was just starting when he heard the news. Something coming out of the lake. Everyone get outside, Wands out and prepare for any battle that may arise. Ignoring the students, Merlin shot out the door. He was hoping against hope that it was who he was thinking it would be. He pushed past teachers and students and made his way to the front of the jumble. Merlin's knees buckled and he leaned on his staff for support.
"Merlin! Is that anyway to greet old friends?" Arthur's strong voice rang clear, breaking the tension.
The whispering started. Who names their child after the greatest wizard ever known? Don't they know it's illegal? This was the most common thought voiced in the crowd.
"Gwaine? Arthur? Lancelot? Perceval? Leon? Elyan?" Merlin stuttered over the words.
"Professor, you know these people?" Sprout asked, shock on her face.
Merlin smiled. "I do and they are centuries late." He ran down the hill, his age fading away until he looked like the same boy who buried Arthur after the battle. It seemed the time of the Once and Future King had come again.