Hello and welcome back... things are starting to heat up now, so here goes...

Thanks to the Timeless Myths website for historical background information, and to all my lovely readers - over 1000 followers, which is beyond amazing 3

As always, I have no claim on Marvel, or JKR's characters, or on the myths and legends of Merlin, which I have taken some liberties with in this story. I don't make any profit from this story, and write it only for my, and your enjoyment.

Merrick x

Harry opened his eyes to find himself alone in a thick fog. Looking down he saw that he was standing on rough, grass, close by he could hear the sound of waves against rocks.

"Hello… is there anyone there?"

The fog's damp chill was seeping through his clothes, making him shiver to his bones. He murmured a charm to counteract it, but to his consternation the charm had no effect.

"Your craft has no power in these lands Harry Potter." Was it the fog that made it so hard to discern where the speaker was standing? It almost seemed that it was coming from all around him.

"Who are you and what do you want with me?"

"Who I am is not important Harry Potter. Dark forces seek to control a power not their own and only you can stop them. When the time comes you will have to make a choice… will have to choose whether or not you are prepared to make the sacrifice"

Fear clenched Harry's stomach. "What do you mean, I'll have to choose? Sacrifice what…?"

The voice that answered was not the first voice. It was a female voice, warm and dearly familiar… "You must have faith Harry… It will all be alright."

"Mum?"

The fog spun dizzyingly around him until he had to shut his eyes tightly to suppress a rising tide of nausea…

"Harry"

His mother's voice made him open his eyes once again, to catch a quick glimpse of towering cliffs, a lighthouse and crashing waves, and at the foot of the cliff, a platform carved into the rock, leading to a narrow fissure, before the fog closed around him once more.

"Harry!" This time the voice didn't sound like his mother's. In fact it sounded a lot like Natasha Romanoff. What was she doing here? Surely dreams about her should be rather more... fun?

"Harry! You need to wake up!"

Wake up?

"Harry"

Harry squinted against the light. "Whaa… Tash?"

"Now it's my turn. You were dreaming this time. Nightmares?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Not really, more weird than scary… I saw… he was… she was… oh"

Natasha perched on the edge of the bed

"What did you see. Who was there…. Harry are you feeling alright?"

"Um… Yeah… Need coffee first. I think I have an idea, but I need to get my head straight."

Natasha nodded her head to the tray on a side table. "Breakfast is served. Help yourself. In the meantime, do I need to start packing my stuff?"

Harry nodded, heading for the coffee pot with a new purposeful look in his eye. "Yeah... maybe... there's something I need to look into first... I have a hunch that I might be onto something."

ooo0ooo

So determined was Harry that he didn't even stop for a proper breakfast, sending all his belongings flying magically around the room, landing haphazardly in his bag as he downed two cups of coffee in quick succession. With her usual efficiency, Natasha already had her bag by the door. She eyed it worriedly. "I hope that we're not jinxing anything..."

Harry put down his cup, eyes determined. "Back to the Library Tash. I have to brush up on the original Druids.

ooo0ooo

Branwen stood by the window for a moment, watching the plants outside tossing in the brisk wind.

"A thousand of your years ago, the Druid's were the priestly class of Celtic society. Scholars, judges, priests and teachers, they were honoured, respected and feared. Their rites were conducted not in churches or temples but in their vast oak groves and beside their remote and sacred lakes. To become a Druid was a serious matter, for it could take as long as twenty years of training to acquire their philosophy, divination, poetry, healing, religious rites and magic. And all this without committing anything to writing. For the Druids, their pupils were required to exercise their minds. It was a serious commitment.

The Druid's originated in Britton, but spread to Ireland and to the lands known then as Gaul. In Gaul, a Druid was a mediator between the mortals and gods; standing poised between worlds, and in the case of Irish and Welsh society, between the Otherworld and mortal planes. The druids derived part of their magic powers and their divinations from the Otherworld."

"So they weren't wizards as we know wizards"

Branwen shook her head. "Many would have been muggles, but for a young man with powers, born in poverty, it would have been a better option than labourer, servant or foot soldier."

"Merlin for instance?"

"No, there are a number of tales regarding Merlin's parentage, but the most likely is that he was the illegitimate son of a Welsh Princess who may or may not have been a nun."

"And his father"

Harry frowned, as Branwen hesitated, just for a second. "There is no written record of his parentage"

"But you know who his father was." It was a statement, not a question.

"In your modern muggle parlance Harry, that information is strictly 'need to know'. Will you accept my assurance that the identity of Merlin's father is not pertinent to this quest".

Natasha watched, fascinated, as Harry allowed the silence to stretch out until it sang in her ears. His pose was deceptively casual, fingers tracing random patterns on the table.

"So Merlin's father was from... Somewhere else… like you." Again, there was no question in his tone.

Branwen's face was expressionless. "That, Mr Potter, is none of your concern."

"So I'm right aren't I?"

"Shall we return to the subject in hand. As I said before, his parentage is not relevant in this case."

Harry sighed, reluctant to push his hostess unnecessarily. "So Merlin was raised as a Druid"

"He was the last of their kind, trained and practicing in secret"

"What happened to the others."

"Not long after the turn of the Millennium the Romans became uncomfortable with the level of power and authority wielded by the Druids, and claimed to disapprove of the their human sacrifices. Gradually their numbers and practices were driven out of Roman territories, eventually the survivors took shelter on one of their most sacred sites, a site they believed to be secure and defensible. Separated from the mainland by a difficult and dangerous body of water they must have been certain they were relatively safe." Branwen's face was distant and sorrowful, as though the tragedy had taken place only weeks, rather than centuries ago.

"The Romans, led by Suetonius Paulinus…" she spat the word like a curse "…managed to make the crossing, although many of his men and horses died in the process. The Druids were butchered, men women and children, and their sacred groves destroyed." She shook her head. "It was a bloody day's work, for they would not have gone peacefully into the shadows"

Harry nodded, as though at heart he had known all along.

"Anglesey".

ooo0ooo

Just under three hours later saw them walking back down the steep path from the top of the Tor. Unlike the day of their arrival the weather was cool and clear, and the views across the waterways and marshes that made the Tor truly an island were stunning. Dragging his eyes away, Harry focused instead on the redhead to his left. She had been quiet ever since they had bid a fond farewell to their hostess, with promises to return; now she strode alongside him, dressed for action in jeans, sweatshirt and boots, hair tied firmly back in a ponytail, hands in her pockets, eyes focused. She looked a million miles away from the woman he had kissed in Branwen's garden on their first night. Now she looked like the Black Widow.

"Are you alright?"

"How did you know? About Branwen?"

"Just a hunch really. But what first got me thinking was something that she said when we first arrived in the Library... about the treasures of the Nine Realms. A witch from Earth, even one with all that knowledge at her disposal, is unlikely to be so aware of our place in the cosmos. All this stuff has come out in the last few years, since that business that went down in New Mexico."

"You don't think Loki...?"

Harry laughed. "No... for once all roads do not lead to his royal highness. If the numbers you gave me are true he would still have been very young by their standards. Far too young to be sneaking back down to earth to cause that kind of trouble. We will probably never know..."

She shrugged her shoulders, not taking her eyes from the distant horizon. "When we leave... we have no idea whether we'll be stepping out of that portal in the middle of the afternoon, or the middle of the night. We also have no idea whether they will be waiting for us" Harry nodded. She finally slid her eyes sideways to watch him. "So what do we expect. Your kind or mine?"

Harry shook his head. "Difficult to be certain, but I would put my money on yours. As you say, HYDRA are predominantly a muggle organisation. But then they may be waiting for us to emerge from a magical portal in one of the most significant and powerful sites in the country. And there is this Araposa person..."

She sighed gustily. "So what you're really saying is you have no idea"

"Not a clue"

"Lovely"

They walked on for a while, not bothering to stop at the oak tree this time. Eventually they rounded the curve of the Tor and saw Beineon waiting by his boat. Seeing him, Harry reached out to take Natasha's arm, slowing her.

"Tash?"

"What is it Harry?"

"Talk to me"

For a long, long moment she said nothing, eyes on the distant horizon.

"Stupid really. It feels like the end of a holiday. Or when you realise it was all just a dream."

"What was just a dream?"

"Being normal. Going out for dinner, running on a Sunday afternoon… Now it's business as usual. Being shot at, beating the bad guys, saving the world."

"Like I said, it doesn't have to be that way. We could see this through then go… wherever you wanted."

She shook her head, "What makes you think that the world would ever let us go Harry? There's always going to be another threat. Sooner or later they'll want us back. A friend of mine… Bruce. He has a… problem."

"That wouldn't be a big angry green problem would it?"

She nodded smiling. "That would be the one. He keeps trying to hide, takes himself off to some backwater. Villages in Africa, the slums of Kolkata… He could find himself a tree in the middle of the Amazon rainforest and they'd track him down if they needed him badly enough."

"Trust me, there are ways and means, even for you and me…"

They were walking again now, but strolling gently, focused on one another, rather than the route march of a few moments ago. "So where are we going?"

Harry shook his head. "For once Lady Branwen's library couldn't help me. What I need now is a computer and satellite mapping. That dream this morning. I spoke to… well I don't know what the first voice was about, but the second was… was my Mum, and she showed me this place which I thought I recognised, from a trip I made to Anglesey a few years back.

"But first we probably have to fight our way out of here."

"Yup. Good thing is that they are unlikely to be armed to the teeth." When she looked at him skeptically he smiled. "This isn't America, this is the UK. We have laws about random people wandering around with guns. Even the majority of the muggle police force don't carry them. While we can't discount handguns they couldn't carry anything any bigger without attracting the kind of attention they would be keen to avoid"

She checked the knives at waist, wrists and ankles and nodded tersely. "Knife work where possible it is then. Come on Mr Magic man, we have a boat to catch."

"Right behind you Agent Romanoff."

Even Beineon seemed ill-disposed to talk that morning, ferrying them smoothly and quietly over the dark water, penetrating blue eyes fixed on the distant shoreline. It was only when they were moments from disembarking that he turned to them.

"Remember my words. Those that pursue you may be waiting on the other side of the portal. I would aid you if I could, but my purpose must be to preserve the sanctity of the Isle at all costs. As soon as you step into the mortal world I have to close the way behind you. Be on your guard for whatever awaits, there will be no way back."

Harry smiled weakly. "I don't suppose we can apparate from this side of the portal, or would that be too easy?"

"Mr Potter, you are known as one of the most powerful mortal wizards now alive, but even you cannot apparate between worlds. The portal must be closed behind you before you can apparate safely"

Harry nodded tersely as he reached to help Natasha from the boat. Pole in hand Beineon led them to a ruined wall half hidden among the trees. Taking the pole he tapped out a complicated pattern, before reaching up to touch a stone right at the highest point. Gripping their hands briefly he stepped back. "Good luck my friends, may the powers of the Goddess go with you"

Like smoke in a breeze the stones in front of them swirled and melted to reveal the chilly shadows of a late Glastonbury evening. Wand and knives in hand they stepped cautiously through the portal every sense strained for the first sign of attack, but all was quiet and still.

Harry heard the soft sigh of the portal closing behind him with some relief – the last thing they needed was Hydra gaining access to the Isle and all that it guarded. Carefully watching each other's backs Harry reached for Natasha's hand to apparate them out of there… and was unable to suppress a yelp of shock as the crack of gunfire heralded a bullet that nearly took his right hand off, sending his wand flying across the garden. As Harry summoned his wand back to his hand, Natasha hurled herself across the grass, dodging a second bullet. The first gunman was already dead on the gravel path, neck broken, Harry fired a stunner at a second agent that came at her from behind, sending him reeling back, as a roundhouse kick from the Russian finished him too. Seconds later a flash of blue light flew from behind a hedge, sending Natasha crashing, immobile to the floor, just as Harry froze at the sound of a handgun being cocked, and the cold feeling of pressure in the back of his neck.

The voice behind him was female. Young, smooth and decidedly British. "Mr Potter. Please keep perfectly still and raise your hands. This weapon may be small, but take it from me that it is perfectly capable of shattering your spine at this range. I would advise absolute compliance"

Harry stayed perfectly still, feeling the pressure from the gun ease a little, the wand disappearing discretely from his hand, as a slender dark figure emerged from the shadows on the other side of the clearing, wand in hand. Dressed from head to foot in black, hair and face concealed it was impossible to tell whether they were even male or female. Striding across to the now helpless Natasha, Harry surged forward, realising at the last minute, what was about to happen. The pressure in the back of his neck increased once more, halting him in his tracks….

"Don't go doing anything we might both regret now Mr Potter. I'm quite prepared to kill you if I have to but there are …. certain parties that would prefer you both alive… for now."

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the dark figure stoop over Natasha's inert form. There was a sharp crack and the two figures disappeared before his eyes. Harry felt a searing flash of pain as the butt of the gun hit the back of his head hard and everything went black.

ooo0ooo

Draco Malfoy took a tentative sip of his canteen tea and winced – it was every bit as bad as he had feared. He put down his mug, rubbing his forehead gingerly, trying to sooth the headache that was building behind his eyes. It had been a quiet few days crime-wise, but the administration itself was a nightmare – no wonder Harry spent so much time at the office. He was just debating with himself over the advantages of giving up and coming in early on a semi-decent night's sleep, against burning the midnight oil and getting everything clear in one go when his reverie was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in" His eyebrows raised when Hermione Granger appeared in the doorway. "Hermione – what brings you to this floor? The Unspeakables not keeping you busy enough?" He hesitated, seeing her expression. "You do know Harry isn't around at the moment don't you?"

"I've just had a call from an Infirmary in the West Country." Seeing Draco's vacant expression, she huffed in frustration. "You know… a hospital. Honestly Draco – you really need to expand your knowledge of the Muggle world…"

Draco scowled. "No doubt you will tell me why this hospital is calling you in your own good time Granger. Or are you just here to prove that you are important enough to get telephone calls?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to glare. "There's no need to be so unpleasant Draco. I was about to tell you – it's Harry. They found him unconscious in a garden in Glastonbury, with two dead bodies, not any of ours thank goodness; Kingsley's office is handling the bodies, but Harry has a fractured skull and further hairline fractures to his cheekbone and jaw. It appears that he was hit over the back of the head and was unconscious before he hit the pavement - with his face. So far he has yet to regain consciousness and they're monitoring him for brain swelling. I'm in the process of trying to get him extracted back to St Mungo's – I have their best Muggle Relations people working on it as we speak."

Draco was out of his seat, reaching for his cloak. "So what are we waiting for Granger, come on?"

ooo0ooo

"Excuse me… We're looking for Harry Potter. I had a call from a Samantha Brown to say that he had been admitted."

The girl behind the desk barely looked up. "Have a seat"

Hermione took a deep breath trying to stay calm. "But he's got a head injury. He's unconscious"

She nodded, typing something into her computer. "Have a seat."

Hermione's eyes flashed, and her colour rose. "Now look here…."

Seeing the impending explosion, Draco stepped smoothly in…"Excuse me Miss…" easing his way around Hermione, he leaned casually over the desk, peering at the unhelpful girl's name badge… "Jenny. I wonder if you could help me?"

Jenny looked up, eyes widening a little in appreciation as she took in Draco's appearance, now in black muggle jeans, fitted grey sweater and black leather jacket. "I'm sure I can… Mr…err"

"Granger… David Granger. My wife and I are very worried about her brother – she got this call out of the blue – She's pregnant you know…. she's very upset. Obviously you are very busy, but I wonder if you could just take a very quick look and let us know where he is please? He has a specialist in London that needs to take a look at him – we need to make arrangements"

By now Jenny's cheeks were positively rosy. "Give me two minutes Mr Martin."

One minute later she was back. "Excuse me, Mr Granger... "

"David… please Jenny"

"D… David… I've found him. He's in the Head Injury unit. Ward 14. Take the lift to the seventh floor and turn left. If you report to the desk they'll be able to give you more details."

Draco gave her his most charming smile – the one he usually saved for difficult members of the Wizengamot, and wheedling additional funding out of committees. "Jenny, thank you so much, you've been very helpful. Now you have a nice evening."

"You're welcome… I hope that your brother in law is alright."

Hermione restrained her frustration until she got into the lift. "Pregnant? That has to be the single most nauseating display I've ever witnessed."

Draco shrugged, trying not to look smug. He failed, but hoped he got credit for trying. "Calm down Granger… it got us what we needed didn't it - and without attracting undue attention to ourselves?"

"Hermione" she snapped irritably. "Why are you calling me Granger all of a sudden? You haven't done that since we were at school"

"Because – Hermione – you keep giving me the same disapproving glare that you used to reserve for me when we were at school."

Hermione's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "I'm sorry Draco. You're quite right, and thank you for sorting that out. Now we just need to find out how Harry is and how we're going to get him out of here and up to St Mungo's before they decide they need to operate."

Draco frowned. "Operate?"

She nodded. "Surgery, to pin his jaw and cheekbone. Hopefully they won't need to take out a piece of his skull to sort out any bleeding"

She struggled to suppress a smile at Draco's look of frank horror as he turned even paler than usual. "They want to cut him open? That's… barbaric. Are we still in the dark ages?"

"Actually, if you don't have our magical alternatives, it's not a bad method. I just don't think that Harry will be up for the extended recovery time. Do we know what he was working on?"

Draco shook his head. "All I know is that he came in one morning and told me it was something classified from Kingsley himself. Basically it's need to know, and at the moment I don't"

Hermione looked bleak. "I have a feeling that might be about to change. Ah - finally" The lift had finally made it to the seventh floor. Emerging, they checked in at the nurses' station, before being ushered in to see Harry while they waited for the doctor. Harry was still out cold, one side of his face a mask of bruising and swelling, his head swathed in bandages. Leaving Hermione with him Draco slipped out to call Muggle Relations at St Mungo's for an update. He returned to find Hermione in conversation with a very capable looking Doctor. Draco was relieved to see that she looked much more relaxed – clearly whatever she was hearing was better new than she'd feared. Diplomatically, Draco decided to wait until they'd finished before slipping unobtrusively back into the room.

"How is he?"

Hermione, who had taken the seat by Harry's bedside, looked up. "As we were told he has a serious skull fracture consistent with the butt of a smallish handgun. This apparently knocked him out cold, so he couldn't break his fall. The Doctor thinks he must have landed on the left side of his face, causing the other fractures in his jaw and cheekbone and the loss of a couple of teeth; but it's the back of his head that's causing concern. There is some bleeding, which they are monitoring, but at the moment they are hoping to avoid surgery. If he stays here he might be looking at three to six months recovery time, possibly longer. We have to get him out of here."

Draco dropped a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Relax Hermione, I just called MR at St Mungo's. They'll be calling in shortly and expect to have him out of here within a couple of hours at the most. Did you mention anything to the Doctor?"

Hermione nodded. "I said that Harry was under a private consultant in London, and that they would probably be called about a transfer. He was very keen to keep Harry here - this is an excellent hospital, but I think I've convinced him. I don't think there's anything else we can say. I suppose we'd better update Kingsley. You'll need to get your MR department involved too, apparently the police were at the scene and will be back when he's awake to take a statement."

"I tried, but Kingsley's in conference and can't be disturbed, apparently he is talking to Quahog in New York. His PA promised that he'd call as soon as he can – he'll handle the muggle police. Did Harry have anything with him?"

Hemione looked contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think to look." They found his belongings in a bag in the locker. His small backpack had what appeared to be a combination lock on the zip, but was actually a device to prevent accidental incursion by muggles. Hermione opened it with a sharp tap of her wand and a muttered incantation. Rummaging cautiously in the magically cavernous depths she found his wand with a sigh of relief. "He must have been taken unawares if he didn't have his wand in his hand."

Draco shook his head. "We are all trained to transport our wands into a secure place if we are compromised. Better that than have them fall into the wrong hands."

"That's brilliant. Can you teach me that sometime" For once Hermione looked seriously impressed. "Let's see if there's anything else interesting…..oh!" She pulled out a second pack, eyeing it dubiously. "Was Harry working alone?"

Draco was focused on Harry's wand and didn't look up. "I have no idea… Oh! I truly hope that he is working with someone – a female someone. If not, The Prophet is going to have a field day with this one."

Hermione eyed the lacy black bra with interest. "While it could be polyjuice, there doesn't appear to be any in his rucksack, so I think we can safely assume that Harry is not cross dressing, and is in fact probably working with someone else. The question is, who?"

"I have no idea. No one that I know of. Kingsley will know… if we could ever get hold of him" He took the second chair and pulled it closer to the bed.

Hermione sighed. "So now we wait."

"So now we wait."

ooo0ooo

It took another hour before the transfer team finally arrived, and Hermione had to admit to being very impressed. No-one would have guessed that they were anything other than exactly what they purported to be, a specialist medical team from a private London hospital. Within an hour and a half all the paperwork had been processed, Harry was safely ensconced in a private room at St Mungo's and Draco and Hermione could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Half an hour after Harry's arrival at St Mungo's, Kingsley arrived in person, sweeping Draco and Hermione into Harry's room, warding it against all comers.

"How is he?"

Leaving the second chair to Kingsley, Hermione perched comfortably on Harry's bed. "He has been magically transfused with Skelegro for his fractures, and given a combination of potions for the bleeding and swelling in his brain. They expect him to come out of it within the next couple of hours."

Kingsley sighed with relief. "And Agent Romanoff?"

Draco and Hermione looked at each other. "There was no-one else with him"

Kingsley swore softly under his breath. "So either she was a HYDRA plant, or HYDRA have her, neither of which is good. We have to hope that Harry will be able to tell us more when he wakes up. Will you floo call me when he does wake?"

Hermione nodded resisting the temptation to question him further. Kingsley rose. "Draco, will you stay here tonight?"

Hermione looked flustered. "Really, there's no need. I assume that this HYDRA is a muggle organisation, in which case they won't be able to get in anyway."

Kingsley shook his head, thinking of all he had learned of Araposa. "You can't guarantee that. Draco will stay with you. Be good you two. I will speak to you both in the morning if not before."

ooo0ooo

Harry awoke a few hours later, to find himself in what was indisputably a St Mungo's room. His vision was still a little blurry, and his head ached abominably, but under the circumstances he supposed it could have been worse. Feeling a weight on his legs he looked up to see Hermione, slumped fast asleep over the bed. By the door Draco was on another chair, also asleep. Somewhere there was a small irritating noise that he couldn't quite identify.

Eventually the noise stopped, only to start again a few minutes later. Eventually it penetrated Harry's still fogged brain that it was a mobile ringing – but not his – Tash. Tash's phone was ringing. Dragging himself up, ignoring the pain that spiked in his head as he did so, he looked around frantically for the source of the sound, finally locating his pack on the other side of the bed. Rummaging clumsily, he finally brought out Tash's Starkphone. He had no idea whether it would even work for him, but he had to try.

"Hello"

The voice on the other end of the call was male, and definitely american. "You aren't the owner of this phone"

"No. My name is Harry Potter"

There was silence for a moment, then the voice came back. "You're lucky that Jarvis matched your voice patterns from your previous conversation Mr Potter, if they hadn't matched, that phone currently pressed to your ear would have delivered an electrical charge straight into your brain, killing you instantly."

"Hmm. That makes a good case for hands free"

The voice on the other end chuckled, then was suddenly serious. "Mr Potter, can you tell me firstly why you are answering Natasha Romanoff's cellphone, and secondly, can you tell me why she has missed the last three check ins?"

"I will be happy to answer both questions if you will answer one. Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Tony Stark. You may have heard of me…"

"Oh yes Mr Stark. You, I've heard of"