Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N- I know that I said once a week, but looks like I'm gonna have to be early for once in my life. My best friends are flying in this week for the 4th, so I don't know when or if I will have any time for writing and/or posting this next week or two. If the chapter after this is a little late, please forgive me.

Harry sat stunned into silence as Merlin laid his staff across his lap and reached into a hidden pocket in the folds of his robes. From it he produced a pipe and a small pouch of tobacco. "Smoke?" he asked as he loaded the pipe. Harry shook his head mutely and Merlin shrugged before placing the pipe in his mouth and pointing his index finger at the bowl. With a puff of smoke it was lit and he inhaled deeply, giving Harry a calculating look while he waited for him to speak. It was several long moments before he could.

"What is it that you want from me?" Harry finally said, his voice very quiet.

Merlin chuckled softly, a small cloud of smoke drifting lazily over his head. "My boy I have already told you twice. I want to help you to stop Lord Voldemort." He waved his hand dismissively, "Or if you prefer, Tom Riddle." He snorted loudly, "I always thought that name of his was completely ridiculous anyway. Sounds like something from a children's bedtime story."

Harry couldn't help but grin a little at this, as he quite agreed. Maybe it was being raised in the muggle world or simply because he had fought him so many times, but he had never been able to muster the fear for that name that the rest of his world felt. His wand, which had been starting to droop steadily over the past minute, finally dropped to his side.

There was no way that man was truly Merlin. That was ridiculous, Merlin had been dead for centuries, but Harry definitely didn't think he was any friend to the Death Eaters either. For one thing he hadn't tried to kill him yet. But he needed to find out how he knew so much about Voldemort...and the prophecy.

"Alright then suppose I believe that you really are Merlin. Why does the most famous wizard of all time want to help me? And if you're so interested in seeing him dead, why don't you just do the job yourself. You're welcome to it, trust me." Merlin smiled sadly and pulled an old golden pocket watch from yet another hidden pocket in his robes, checking the time.

"My reasons are…complicated. And as for fighting Mr. Riddle myself, believe me, I would if I could." He sighed, "But I'm not allowed."

"What do you mean not allowed?"

Crack!

The loud sound had Harry diving off the side of his bed, coming to his feet in a tangle of messy sheets with his wand again at the ready.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" he asked, again eying this stranger with suspicion. Merlin remained where he was, casually checking the time on his little golden watch.

"That," he began slowly, "is a team of Death Eaters tearing down one of the wards protecting this house."

"No that's impossible. This place is protected by my mother's blood. Voldemort and his follower's can't get to me as long as I call this place home. Dumbledore told me so himself." Merlin nodded slowly.

"Yes, you're right, the blood magic that was warding this house was far too strong for Voldemort to destroy, at least not quickly. And he would have attracted far too much attention even attempting such a thing. However if the blood magic were to fall, then the only thing protecting this house would a few minor wards put in place by Dumbledore, who trusted so much in the blood protections that he didn't think anything else was necessary. And fall it has."

Another loud crack echoed from outside, and Harry jumped up, edging to the window and peering out to try and see what was happening on the dark lawn below. "And now you are paying for that decision young Harry. That's two down and only one to go. Once they penetrate the final layer of wards, you will only have moments before they come for you. I know you must have many questions Harry, but I am afraid that time is growing short." Harry was breathing heavily now, his mind racing as he tried to absorb what Merlin was saying, and at the same time figure a way out of this. Dumbledore's safe haven had turned into a cage, and he the rat trapped inside.

"How did this happen?" he practically growled, his frustration and anger growing as he realized the depths of how royally screwed he was. "How could the wards have failed? Dumbledore said that as long as I could call this place home-"

"That as long as you called home the place where your mother's blood dwelled, there Voldemort could not touch you." He sat unmoving, seemingly unconcerned that an army of Death Eaters was about to come barreling through the front door. "That's true enough, if a little flowery, but Dumbledore seems to have neglected to mention to you that this spell goes both ways. You may need to be able to call this place home, but your mother's blood has to call it your home too." Harry's heart sank as the meaning of those words hit him.

He gulped, "Do you mean that Aunt Petunia…" He couldn't finish the sentence. Merlin nodded gravely.

"I'm afraid so. If Petunia ever truly considered this place to not be your home any longer, the magic would fail. And I would say that she and your Uncle agreeing to let the Death Eaters have you pretty much constitutes a big 'Fuck You', wouldn't you say?" Harry shook his head.

"No, they wouldn't just..." His words died in his throat even as he spoke them. Yes they would; they wouldn't even need to be bribed or threatened. As long as it got Harry out of their 'normal lives' they would do just about anything.

It wasn't hard for him to imagine Mr. Malfoy apparating unannounced into Uncle Vernon's office, scaring the living daylights out of him. He could almost see the terrified expression on his Uncle's face as he saw the wand the black-clad stranger held on him. And he could also see the expression of terror turning to one of delight and relief as he realized exactly what it was this strange man wanted...Harry.

Harry's eyes were closed now, his fists clenched tightly in anger and frustration. "What can I do," he asked quietly. Merlin, who was still puffing away at his pipe, shrugged.

"Not much I'm afraid. They have you trapped, outnumbered, and outgunned. In a few moments they are going to break through the final layer of wards. When that happens, a team will come in to take you, while the rest stand guard for any wild escape attempt you might make. You'll fight valiantly of course, but eventually you will be overwhelmed. Voldemort himself will stun you and command his lackeys to bring you with them as they retreat. Dumbledore and his order will arrive on the scene a few moments later; too little too late.

Over the next six months you will be their plaything, tortured daily for the entertainment for the dark lord and his guests. The only reason you won't be dead is because the one piece of information that he really wants from you is what you will refuse to give him; the prophecy. Without knowing the contents he doesn't dare try to kill you for fear of losing his body again."

He was staring at Harry intently, and with more than a little respect in his eyes. "I know that you didn't feel like Snape's occlumency lessons were worth a damn, but you must have picked up something because it's a hell of a feat hiding information from someone for any length of time, much less through six months of prolonged torture.

Eventually you'll escape, with the help of the aforementioned professor and go back to your friends…but you'll never again be the boy they remember, you can't be after something like that. You will learn and grow, and train to fight. And one day it will happen; you will face the monster that fate has tied you to and fight him." Harry licked his dry lips.

"Will – will I win?" He sounded unsure if he even wanted to know the answer. Merlin shook his head sadly.

"I don't know. I can't see the outcome, only the events that will lead to it. I can tell you this much – it will be years before you are strong enough to face him…and in those years many, many people are going to die." Harry was silent for several long moments. It was insane, every bit of it, and this crazy old man needed to be locked up in St. Mungo's where he could spend his days with all the other nutter's, wandering around in his bathrobe and screaming vulgar nonsense to everyone he met. But what if he was telling the truth? He wished there was more time to process all of it, but he knew that his time was all but up.

"I don't understand, you still haven't explained what it is that you want from me."

Another sharp crack resounded, louder than the first two, and Harry could feel the air change as the last of the protections around the house were shattered. Merlin stood quickly and tapped his staff again causing the chair to disappear before he joined Harry at the window.

"My dear boy, I am not going to force you to do anything; I am merely here to offer you a choice. You can accept my help and come with me, or you can stay here and follow the path that destiny has laid before you. The choice is yours." He raised his hand, offering it to the young man. Harry hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching out his own to meet it. Merlin smiled, "Excellent!"

At that moment the bedroom door burst open and three Death Eater's swept inside, wands at the ready.

"Potter!" snarled the central masked figure, whose voice Harry recognized as Lucius Malfoy. Merlin was smiling as he lifted his staff and waved his fingers at the surprised Death Eaters. "Toodles!" Harry felt a huge pressure around him, squeezing him, and then nothing. All three of the masked figures fired quick stunners where the pair stood but they were already gone. The Death Eaters stared intently at the now empty room, all of them wondering what had just happened. And how they were going to explain this failure to their dark master.