A/N: Wow! The positive response to this story has really blown me away! I'm almost afraid to update in case I write something badly and you all hate it!

Warning: This chapter has a tiny little reference to some information from Pottermore, relating to the Hogwarts Express. I'll be using that site as a resource as well as the HP series companion books 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' and 'Quidditch through the Ages'. Just a heads-up if you haven't read them :)

I won't however be using information from the spoilers about Series 5 of Merlin. I know there's a lot of stuff being said online about various things like Morgana and Aithusa and their roles in Series 5, but that is all going to be completely disregarded in this story.

The night before they were due to return to Hogwarts came quicker than anyone could have imagined. Mrs Weasley had gone into Diagon Alley and bought all of their school supplies; much of it from scratch, as Harry and Hermione had both lost much of their possessions, having no home of their own to keep their things in.

There had been quite a tussle with the goblins; they had point-blank refused to allow any money to be drawn from any of their accounts. It had seemed to be quite a hopeless situation, but some intervention by Bill Weasley and Kingsley himself had negotiated a peace settlement.

"Still, I don't put it past those slimy gits to be a bit too careless with our money," Ron had grumbled.

Harry wouldn't either. They were still furious with them for breaking in and stealing something. The fact that their dragon was still on the loose didn't help either. It had eluded every attempt made to capture it, and Charlie Weasley was beginning to get seriously worried.

"They aren't supposed to be this intelligent," he had said one evening, exhausted after another fruitless attempt to find it. 'No matter where we look, there's no sign of it. A normal dragon would leave trails, would attack humans, but no one's seen as much as a scale of this one. It's weird."

Harry had noticed Martin listening intently at this point, a small frown on his face, and Harry wondered for the millionth time what he could possibly be thinking. All news of the dragon seemed to interest him far more than any of the others.

Harry wondered if he had any special reason for being so interested. He'd noticed one evening, when they were all getting ready for bed, that Martin had a small wooden figurine of a dragon in the small bag he'd brought to Grimmauld Place, which seemingly held all of his possessions. It looked ancient, and Martin had held it almost reverently when he lifted it aside to search for some pyjamas. Harry had asked him about it once.

"My father made it for me when I was a lot younger," he had shrugged, before hastily changing the subject.

Harry had the impression, not for the first time, that he was again holding something back. He remembered that Martin's Patronus was a dragon, having seen it during the battle, and thought perhaps there were yet more secrets locked within this mysterious young man.

All their supplies had been bought, their socks laundered by Mrs Weasley, everything was ready, but Harry still felt hollow inside. He sorted through his textbooks, parchment and quills, feeling as though he was looking at it all from a great distance.

It still felt completely insane to be going back to school, but something deep inside of him told him this was the right move, however strange it felt.

He pondered this in the room he shared with Ron and Martin as he moved aside his clothes in his brand-new school trunk, looking for a lost shoe. Everything was brand-new: his trunk, his cauldron, the majority of his books … he'd even be heading off this year without Hedwig. Her loss still pained him, especially now as he was going off for his final year without the one constant companion he'd had since his eleventh birthday.

Martin sat on the end of his bed, his own small trunk already completely packed, looking quite relaxed.

Ron noticed this. "You're packed already?" he asked in disbelief.

Martin nodded. "I don't have much stuff. I moved around a lot."

Ron looked annoyed. "I'll never get this done," he moaned, looking at the jumbled mess of possessions on his bed.

"Well, your mother did tell you to start hours ago," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as she sat on Martin's bed, still absorbed in Ancient Forms of Magic, re-reading it for the fourth time, despite the fact it hadn't turned up anything useful about the Old Religion.

Ron scowled, and attacked his trunk in a renewed vehemence. He shoved his Quidditch robes in his trunk, cramming them in in a crumpled heap.

"You don't have yours any more do you Harry?" asked Ron, looking at them.

"Nah, I left them at the Dursley's, God knows what happened to them after that," said Harry, finally closing the lid of his trunk, and flopping down on his bed.

"You going to keep playing, you know, being the captain and all that?" Ron asked him.

Harry sighed heavily. "I don't know. It'll be weird going back to Quidditch after this. Besides, McGonagall might have appointed someone else."

"She won't have," Ron assured him. "You're the best player Hogwarts ever had. Besides, McGonagall's got a bit of a soft spot for you. She's the reason you got on the team in the first place."

Harry said nothing. True, he'd like to play Quidditch again, he just didn't know if he could go back to it all, being in a situation where there was nothing more pressing than catching a tiny golden ball. It was a big change from constantly being on the run and fighting for his life.

"You play?" Ron asked Martin.

For some reason this seemed to make him extremely amused. "No, never had the opportunity to learn. I've watched a lot of games over the years though."

Ron turned back to his trunk. "Suppose Druids don't go in much for sport."

"I wouldn't say that," Martin said. "I used to be fairly good at Muggle sports, you know, like horse riding and … uh, fencing." His eyes seemed to glint in some amused way as he said this.

"Fencing?" asked Ron dumbfounded. "You mean building fences and stuff? That's a sport?"

"It's a kind of sword fighting, Ron," Harry explained wearily.

"Oh," Ron said, looking slightly more interested. "That sounds pretty cool. Were you any good?"

Martin laughed. "I used to be awful. The guy who taught me, one of my oldest friends, he used to tease me so much about how bad I was. He used to beat me every time we practiced. But I got better eventually. I could hold my own in a fight, even won a few."

Ron nodded, and then turned to Harry. "It's like what you said to Scrimgeour last year, Harry. Maybe we could stick a sword into You-Know-Who."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione said. "Voldemort's not going to be killed by a Muggle sword."

"Of course I didn't mean it literally, Hermione," Ron defended himself. "It was a joke!"

"You know, I think I left something downstairs," Harry excused himself before the bickering got any worse. They may officially be a couple now, but that didn't make them any less inclined to argue, if anything it only increased it.

He wandered down the stairs, and emerged into the Drawing Room. He saw a faint figure jump as Harry entered.

It was Malfoy.

"What are you doing in here?" Harry asked, suspiciously. Malfoy had kept to his room almost exclusively since arriving. Harry didn't think he'd seen any more of the house other than his room and the kitchen.

"That's none of your business, Potter," Malfoy spat. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for going back to school?"

Harry moved closer to him, and realised what he was standing next to.

"Admiring your in-bred history are you?" said Harry, motioning to the Black family tapestry.

Malfoy's face flushed. "At least I have a family, Potter. A family to be proud of!"

Harry raised his eyebrows, and read some of the names.

"A family of Death Eaters, insane people and murderers … yeah, a lot to be proud of."

Malfoy flushed even deeper. "I notice you're not on here, Potter. Not good enough I reckon."

Harry smiled, and pointed to a singed mark underneath the names 'Dorea Black' and 'Charlus Potter'.

"That's my dad right there. Blasted off for marrying a Muggle-Born. Look around, there's lots of these marks; it looks like your family isn't as 'pure' as you like to think."

Malfoy scowled, and turned away.

"You wouldn't know a thing about it, Potter. What do you know of family?"

"I know enough," said Harry. "My Muggle family treated me like scum, but I've found my own family now. I'm happy with them, proud that they've accepted me."

Malfoy wheeled around to face him once again, his face mad. "You mean those blood-traitors? Why are you proud of them?"

"Because," said Harry angrily. "They have treated me better than anyone else in this world. Mrs Weasley loves me as one of her own, and I'll be ever grateful for that. What about your family, Draco; the superior one? You got yourself into this mess because you wanted to uphold your family's honour, because you believed you were better than the others. But you were wrong. All your family's pride has gotten you is being on the run from your former master who'd quite happily kill you without a second thought!"

Malfoy made no answer, breathing heavily as he shook in anger.

"Are you really proud of them, Draco?" asked Harry quietly, looking at Malfoy's name on the tapestry. "Look at your aunts; one of them married a Muggle-Born, but she's had a happy life with a loving daughter and a grandson. The other let herself be twisted by hate and evil, killing innocent people wherever she went. Can you honestly say you're prouder of her than of the ones who were blasted off?"

Malfoy's glare softened as he looked at Bellatrix' name.

"I didn't want anything to do with her," he said softly.

"Why not?" prompted Harry. "She was a Pure-Blood wasn't she? Isn't that all people like you need to be certain of a person's worth?"

Malfoy looked at him, frowning.

"Don't you dare tell me what to think, Potter."

"I'm not trying to," said Harry. "I'm asking you to look for yourself, see if you're truly proud of them."

Malfoy didn't answer, just stood there fuming.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Harry asked again for the first time since the battle. "Why didn't you tell your aunt that it was me? You knew perfectly well that it was us. And for that matter, why didn't you kill Dumbledore when she told you to?"

Malfoy again, made no answer.

"I know why," said Harry. "It's because you don't truly believe in all this stuff. You have a chance, Malfoy, you can be proud of the family that you detest, or be proud of the decisions you make on your own. You have a chance to change things. Take it."

And with that, Harry turned and left the room, leaving Malfoy standing in the dark.

The next morning dawned as chaotically as always. People ran around making last minute preparations, trying to fit in breakfast around getting the last vestiges of the laundry packed away.

Merlin sat at the kitchen table, watching the chaos, barely suppressing his laughter. He always worked well in high-pressure situations; something he thought he'd picked up in Camelot, always frantically trying to help in the preparations for a banquet or a hunt with the Knights.

He was fully packed; he didn't really have much anyway. He'd found it easier over the centuries not to acquire too many things, it just made it more awkward moving around. He had literally everything he owned packed into this small trunk. Even though it was magically expanded, there wasn't much there. There were a few artefacts that he'd picked up over the years, some precious relics from Camelot, such as one of the Knight's cloaks, his old magic book, the dragon figure his father had carved for him, all magically preserved, some clothes, his school supplies and his books, the only large things he had in his possession, a collection he'd made over the centuries.

The one thing he lacked, making his trunk somewhat lighter, was the potion chest he had given by Godric Gryffindor, that he had now passed on to Harry. Godric had given it to him the night before Merlin had left the castle as a parting gift to remember him by, and Merlin had promised to pass it onto someone else in the future, a true Gryffindor, to preserve Godric's legacy. Although it made Merlin rather sad to part with the last remaining object he possessed of his old friend, he knew it was the right thing. Harry had proven himself as a true Gryffindor when he had pulled the sword from the Hat, and when he had given himself up to Voldemort. He knew Godric would approve.

He'd gone into Diagon Alley himself, extracted gold from the Emrys 'Family Vault' at Gringotts, now rather large after accumulating so much over the years, and bought his school things. It made him rather nostalgic buying everything again after so many years. He hadn't been at Hogwarts for quite a while now, and it brought back floods of memories.

He still couldn't get over the fact that he was going to school. He was an old man; he didn't know if he could cope with all the teenage angst that came with it.

Still, Harry was going, and Merlin needed to go with him.

Mrs Weasley ran into the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Oh dear! Thank goodness you're ready at least, I told Ron!"

Merlin tried not to laugh as she continued rushing around the kitchen. "I thought we'd done with all this! I thought that this year we'd only be sending one of them off! Of course I'm thrilled they all want to improve their education, but … well, I'm getting a bit old for all of this."

Not as old as me, Merlin thought.

He jumped up and helped her in any way he could. He spent a good half an hour trying to lure an irate cat into its hamper. It was Hermione's cat, he'd gathered, and had been staying with the Weasleys while Hermione had been off searching for Horcruxes. Like Ron, it wasn't happy to be returning to Hogwarts.

Eventually they were all ready, and they rushed out the front door of Grimmauld Place dragging their trunks with them, heading for King's Cross station. At first glance it appeared they were alone, but Merlin soon observed the Aurors that watched them from behind parked cars all the way to the station. It seemed Kingsley was taking no chances.

They arrived at the station in plenty of time and they made their way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

Merlin hesitated only slightly; although having attended Hogwarts several times before he'd never arrived by train. The Hogwarts Express had only come into being in the 1930s, and Merlin hadn't attended Hogwarts since. He tried to space out his times at Hogwarts so as to not run the risk of being recognised by some of the older teachers.

He certainly thought it a novel way of getting there. He remembered quite clearly the outage and controversy that had accompanied the Ministry's ground-breaking proposal; the more out-spoken Pure-Bloods didn't want their children arriving at school by Muggle transport.

Still, it was more practical than the old method, in which everyone just turned up however they liked. That had been fun. He remembered in particular one exciting time in the 1830s when he'd shared a flying carpet with Eduardus Black when he'd last been in Slytherin House. Eduardus had been a good man, later blasted off the family tree for supporting Muggle rights.

Ron smirked at him. "It's okay. You just walk through, no big deal."

Merlin was slightly annoyed by his smug tone. Ron moved forwards to lean against the barrier causally, still smirking at Merlin.

Merlin smiled, and his eyes flashed gold. Before Ron had reached the barrier, suddenly his feet gave way underneath him, as the floor became like polished glass. He fell, and landed sprawled on the floor, his limbs outstretched in a very unseemly manner.

"Really? No big deal? But it looks so difficult from where you're sitting," Merlin smirked back at Ron, whose face had flushed red.

Merlin started to laugh, and ran forwards and emerged on the other side of the barrier, emerging onto the platform, where a great scarlet steam engine stood waiting for him. Despite himself, he felt a little thrill of excitement as he beheld it, and the dozens of students milling around, saying their goodbyes. He'd always enjoyed his times at Hogwarts.

Ron came through the barrier behind him, still red-faced, and Harry and Hermione and Ginny followed soon after, laughing loudly.

Merlin grinned at Ron who was scowling at him. "Did you do that?" he demanded.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he said casually, winking at the others.

Ron wasn't happy. "That was that Old Magic wasn't it? I thought you said that stuff was difficult and dangerous!"

"Relax, Ron," Merlin said, still laughing. "It was only a little thing."

Ron was still scowling as he stormed past him, searching for a compartment.

"Don't mind him," Ginny said to him. "He needed that."

Merlin smiled at her. At that moment, Mrs Weasley came through the barrier behind them, along with Tonks, clutching a baby to her chest.

"Aww!" gushed Hermione and Ginny, and they moved forwards to Tonks, who was beaming happily.

"I thought you'd all want to see little Teddy before you left," Tonks said, looking down at her son with a look of pure adoration.

"He's so tiny!" cooed Ginny, as she held out a finger and Teddy gripped on to it. Merlin was rather amused at the transformation in Ginny; true she could be fiery and fierce, but she definitely had a softer side to her.

"What's keeping you all?" Ron had reappeared, and his eyes widened at the sight before him. "Blimey."

"I'm sure he likes you too, Ron." Ginny snapped at him, evidently annoyed at his less-than-enthusiastic reception.

"But I'm sure I know who he'll like the best," said Tonks, moving over to Harry, who was still staring at him, a smile on his face. "His godfather of course."

Harry looked alarmed, and tried to back off. "Oh, I don't think I should," he said as Tonks tried to place Teddy in his arms. "I'll drop him."

"Don't worry, Harry, just pretend he's a Golden Snitch," said Tonks brightly.

Harry held him, rather awkwardly at first, but soon relaxed as Teddy began to gurgle at him.

"See, he likes you!" Tonks said happily.

Harry grinned, as he shifted Teddy in his arms. The blankets surrounding Teddy's face suddenly dropped down a little, and his face was fully exposed.

He squealed happily as he saw the train, and then suddenly his hair changed from the orange colour it had been to a bright scarlet red, the same shade as the Hogwarts Express.

"I don't think he wants to wait eleven years until he's old enough to go," laughed Tonks, taking him back from Harry. "Well, shall we find you lot somewhere to sit?"

They all nodded, and moved off down the platform, weaving in between the families crowding the platform. As they walked, Merlin couldn't help but notice the amount of stares they were all receiving. He sighed; he supposed he'd better get used to this.

They found a fairly empty carriage at the end of the train, and they hopped on, dragging their trunks behind them, and depositing them in an empty compartment. They went back outside to say goodbye.

Mrs Weasley hugged them tearily. "Be careful won't you? Remember you can all come back at any time you want to be more involved in things. Teach that D.A. of yours everything you know!"

Harry nodded. "We will," he assured her.

Mrs Weasley hugged him again, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny headed back onto the train. Merlin tried to follow them, but found Mrs Weasley had grabbed on to his arm.

"Look after them, won't you?" she asked him, searching his face.

"I will protect them with my life," Merlin said solemnly.

Mrs Weasley nodded, hesitated, and then pulled Merlin into a fierce hug. Merlin, surprised, barely had time to react before she pulled back.

"Now, off you go," she said, smiling.

Merlin smiled back, and went back to the compartment the others were occupying, now accompanied by Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

"All right?" Neville asked, grinning.

"Yeah, you?" Merlin asked, smiling at him.

"Not bad!" said Neville. "I was just saying to Luna here we're going to have a hell of a year. Got real responsibility now that the D.A's been made official."

"Yeah," agreed Merlin.

Before long, the whistles had been blown and the train started to pull away. They waved as Mrs Weasley and Tonks, who was waving Teddy's tiny little hand at them, began to fall back and were eventually gone as the train rounded a corner.

Merlin sat back in his seat. It was going to be a long journey.

Harry watched out of the window as the countryside began to flash past. He was going back; it was finally starting to sink in.

He didn't pay much attention to the conversations going on around him, too lost was he in his own thoughts. Here he was zooming off to school to sit in a classroom while Voldemort was still out there causing chaos and devastation. It made him so frustrated.

He didn't doubt he had made the right decision, at least he tried to tell himself that, but it didn't make it any easier.

Every so often excited and curious faces would peer into their compartment, whispering excitedly at the sight of him. Harry ignored them; he didn't deserve their praise, and he couldn't care less about their rumourmongering.

"I expect you're not too happy about going back, are you?" Luna said dreamily, looking at Harry, who was sitting across from her.

Harry looked at her sharply, and sighed. "Not particularly."

"I understand," nodded Luna. "At first I didn't want to come back. I'd been held prisoner and tortured, and then fought in an awful battle- I thought that coming back would be strange. But we're doing good by retuning, we're going to learn lots, we'll have the D.A. to teach … we'll be just as useful as we ever were."

She smiled at him. "Don't feel bad, Harry; just think about all the good things that'll come of this."

Harry smiled back at her; Luna just had that way of making you feel better, no matter the circumstances.

All of a sudden, there was a flash of fire in the compartment. Neville yelped, spilling a ton of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans on the floor as he whipped out his wand.

Harry made to reach for his too, but stopped before his hand had gone half-way to the wand holster he'd received for his birthday when he realised what had happened.

Sitting there in the middle of the compartment was Fawkes.

"Bloody hell!" yelled Ron. "Where did that thing come from?"

Fawkes squawked at him reproachfully, and turned around to face Martin, hopping up until he sat on his knee.

"I've always loved phoenixes," sighed Luna.

"What does he want?" breathed Hermione, her eyes wide.

"He's got a letter, look!" Neville pointed.

Martin reached down, and pulled a small scroll of parchment from his leg. As soon as it was removed, Fawkes gave another squawk, and vanished in another spurt of flame.

"Well, that was weird," stated Ginny, rather unnecessarily. "Phoenixes wouldn't carry letters for just anybody. They're far too proud."

"Who's the letter from?" urged Ron.

Martin unrolled the scroll and read through it quickly. "Professor McGonagall."

Harry frowned. "What does she want?"

By way of an answer, Martin handed him the note. Harry read it aloud.

Dear Mr Emrys,

I thought you'd like to know the preparations for your rather unorthodox attendance at Hogwarts are now complete; you will begin in seventh year with Mr Potter and the others. While I understand you've had no formal education, I believe your spell work to be sufficiently advanced enough to aspire to N.E.W.T standard, therefore I've enrolled you in the following subjects: Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology and of course, the extra-curricular classes the Auror from the Ministry will be running once a week.

You remember of course the Minister's suggestion of your acting as a defender of the school from the inside. As such, I should like you to come to my office before the Opening Feast as soon as you arrive to discuss this further. I shall also Sort you at this time.

I'd also be grateful if you would relay this information to Potter and his friends, and ask that they too come to me before the Feast, so that we can discuss the arrangements being made for them to enable them to continue their activities with the Order of the Phoenix.

I wish you a pleasant journey on the Hogwarts Express, and will see you all when you arrive.

Yours sincerely,

Professor McGonagall,

Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

P.S. Forgive the strange nature of the arrival of this letter. I was going to use a school owl, but Fawkes insisted. I think he's taken a shine to you.

Harry looked up at him.

"Not even got there yet and we've already got an appointment to see the Headmistress? I'm guessing that's some kind of record."

"You've been enrolled in all the classes that a prospective Auror would take," said Hermione, examining the letter.

Martin shrugged. "Makes sense doesn't it? We're all here to learn as much as we can to defeat Voldemort. An Auror's training makes sense."

Ron was still gaping at where Fawkes had been. "That bird really must like you to be willing to act like an owl."

Merlin smiled. "I just have that natural charm."

But Harry was slightly more suspicious; why was Fawkes so trusting of him? He hadn't thought Fawkes would ever show such loyalty to anyone other than Dumbledore.

"So," said Ginny, trying to bring some normality back to the proceedings. "Now McGonagall's Headmistress, who do you reckon will be teaching Transfiguration? Or Defence for that matter?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I hadn't thought of that. I suppose we'll just have to wait until we get there."

"Bet you're pleased you don't need to get Sorted in front of the entire school." Neville grinned at Martin.

"Yeah," laughed Martin. "It would've been quite embarrassing to be up there with a bunch of people half my age."

"Wonder what House you'll be in?" Ginny pondered.

"I think Ravenclaw," said Ron. "You're way smarter than us."

Martin shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Yeah you are!" said Ron. "You know all this stuff about Old Magic and that!"

"Doesn't mean I'm smart," said Martin.

"Well," said Hermione. "You're definitely smart enough for Ravenclaw, but that doesn't mean you'll be in that House."

"Yeah Hermione," said Harry grinning. "You're not in Ravenclaw, and I doubt there's a smarter witch in the school."

Hermione blushed.

"I think your true House is Hufflepuff," said Luna, randomly.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"I mean, it's your loyalty that defines you," Luna went on, looking at Martin intensely. "You'd do anything for the people you care about, and you'll always work hard to do so. I think you'd be happy there."

Martin looked at her, his eyes slightly widened. "Yeah, maybe," he mumbled, and looked away.

Harry was intrigued by this, but said nothing.

The rest of the journey passed rather quietly, and before long they were changing into their robes as the sky darkened and the train started slowing down.

The train pulled into the platform, steam swirling around like tendrils of mist.

They made their way out onto the platform, and started negotiating their way through the crowds of people.

"Firs' years! Firs' years!" A familiar cry echoed out over the platform. Harry smiled; even after all the bad stuff that had happened, it was nice to hear that familiar start-of-year greeting.

"Hagrid!" cried Hermione, waving to him.

Hagrid lumbered over. "Great teh see you lot! I thought fir a while yeh weren' goin' teh come!"

"Well, we're here," said Harry, trying to sound happy about it. But Hagrid wasn't fooled.

"Don't yeh worry yersel's, yeh'll have a great year. You'll see!"

And he walked away, grinning at them, gathering the first years to him.

"Come on, we need to find a carriage." Hermione chided them all.

Ron looked at her in annoyance. "You're the one who stopped to chat to Hagrid!"

But she pushed them all over to where the Thestral-pulled carriages were waiting. They all scrambled into one, and soon they were off, on their way to the castle.

Harry sat staring out of the window until the castle itself appeared, looking as familiar and comforting as it always did.

"Looks like they fixed it up, eh?" Ron said, peering out of window. "Not a bad job considering how messed up it was."

They pulled up outside the front doors, and they stepped out of the carriage, and moved into the Entrance Hall.

If Harry hadn't known a battle had taken place here just a few months ago, he would never have believed it. There wasn't a sign of it anywhere.

"Come on!" directed Hermione. "We need to go and see Professor McGonagall!"

They moved up the marble staircase, Ron groaning slightly as they moved away from the brightly lit Great Hall, from which tempting smells were being issued.

Before long they found themselves in front of the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance.

"Er … "said Ron, looking unsure. "What's the password?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh no! I don't know it!"

Harry opened his mouth to begin to guess, but Martin beat him to it.

"Fawkes," he said, and the gargoyle sprang aside.

"Just a hunch," he said, shrugging at the curious looks he was receiving.

They progressed up the revolving staircase and knocked on the door.

"Come in," a voice sounded on the other side. Harry pushed open the door.

McGonagall was sitting at Dumbledore's desk- no, her desk now, writing.

She glanced up as they entered. "Ah," she said. "Please, take a seat." She waved her wand and seven seats appeared around her desk.

They took a seat each, and waited until McGonagall had finished.

When she had, she looked up, and observed them over her spectacles.

"I'm glad you all decided to return to Hogwarts," she said. "There is much you all still need to learn, and much you will be able to teach the younger students. I'm thrilled you have realised that."

Harry and the others said nothing. McGonagall stormed ahead regardless.

"Of course, you are all still fully-fledged members of the Order, you must never forget that. Once a week, on a Saturday evening, there will be an Order meeting at seven o'clock. You will all make your way here, to this office, and we shall Floo to Grimmauld Place. Any new advancement in the fight will of course be made available to you immediately. Your services may be called upon at any time to assist the Order. You are of course welcome to leave, but I would advise against it. You are of are more benefit here."

Harry nodded dully. McGonagall looked stern again.

"Of course, I shall still expect you all to perform to your very best in class. There will no leniency. You are here to learn, and shall be expected to perform as every other student. Do I make that clear?"

Harry nodded again.

"You will be invited to these special Auror-run special training sessions," McGonagall continued. "The seven of you, and any other people you deem to be worthy will attend once a week on a Sunday; it will be written on your timetables, where and when you are to attend these. They are also optional but I strongly recommend you attend."

"As to the D.A.," she said, looking stern. "Meetings twice a week Potter, in your usual place. I shall make a school-wide announcement, inviting the students to attend, and you will teach them, regardless of age, or of House. These meetings will begin next week. I would like this upcoming week to be spent by yourself drawing up plans of what you intend to teach, and to send them to me to be approved."

Harry nodded once again, rather feeling like he was being dictated to. McGonagall's style of running the school seemed to be far stricter than Dumbledore's, but Harry didn't doubt she was as equally efficient in her own way.

"I appreciate that all of this extra-curricular work may mean your school work suffers. I understand, but I will still expect each of you to perform to your best," she said looking around at them all seriously. "I would like to impress on you all that this will be a tough year, and that you must be fully committed to doing this. There will be a lot of hard work involved, and I hope you will all try your hardest."

Neville looked slightly worried at this, though determined all the same. Harry sighed as he thought of the incredibly tough year he had just resigned himself to.

"Professor, what about Quidditch?" Ron asked tentatively.

McGonagall looked at him in astonishment. "Surely with everything going on you will have neither the time nor the inclination for Quidditch of all things?"

Ron frowned. "Gryffindor's won three consecutive trophies, we have to keep that up don't we?"

McGonagall blinked for a few moments, looking bewildered.

"Well, of course, heaven knows, we can't let that falter," she stammered. She looked at Harry and Ron and Ginny seriously. "Do you really think you'll be able to cope with this on top of everything else?"

Ron and Ginny nodded eagerly, but Harry didn't respond for a moment. Playing Quidditch, something so normal …

"Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"Yeah," Harry finally decided. "I'd like to play again."

McGonagall nodded, and Harry could swear he saw a tiny glimmer of a smile on her thin lips.

"Very well, I shall see what we can do. I'll have to liaise with the new Head of Gryffindor however."

"Who is that, professor?" asked Hermione interestedly.

McGonagall looked at her, her stern expression faltering a little. "It is Professor Hagrid," she said finally.

"Hagrid?!" yelled Ron. "That's brilliant! He'll be great!"

"Yes," said McGonagall distractedly, as though she wasn't too happy about it. Harry could see why; whilst having great intentions, Hagrid wasn't exactly the most responsible person ever. He was thrilled of course, he knew what this meant for Hagrid, but he couldn't help but wonder if Hagrid was the only ex-Gryffindor teacher at Hogwarts.

McGonagall quickly pulled herself together. "Well, I think that's everything concerning you six. Now," she said turning to Martin. "You know your role?"

"I think so," said Martin, trying to smile.

McGonagall looked unamused."You are the unofficial protector of the school. I would like for you to make patrols three times a week around the grounds, checking that the wards around the school are functioning correctly. I want you to patrol within the school itself also, work alongside the Prefects of your House. You are to be vigilant, always on the lookout for anything suspicious. I would like for you to meet with me here every Friday evening after dinner to make a report. Is this understood?"

Merlin nodded, slightly intimidated by her austere presence. Here was a woman who didn't tolerate shoddiness. Overall it didn't seem like too much extra work. He might even be able to improve the school's defences. He would've been on the lookout anyway; he would be able to sense any magical threats to the school before they even made themselves known to anyone else.

One of the silver instruments whirring on the spindly tables dotted throughout the room suddenly made a high-pitched noise and issued a puff of purple smoke.

McGonagall glanced at it momentarily. "The first years have arrived at the castle. The Sorting will begin shortly. Which reminds me …"

She stood up and moved over to a shelf at the side of the room, where she brought back the old Sorting Hat.

"They'll be needing this, but not just yet."

She approached Merlin wielding the hat, and Merlin suddenly felt nervous. He remembered when the hat had belonged to Godric, and how Helga had detested the very sight of its threadbare fabric. It still surprised him that she had eventually consented to use it as a means of Sorting students. In any case, the hat had known from the very first time Merlin had worn it just who he was. It wouldn't tell the room would it?

She placed it on top of his head, where it settled quite comfortably, not even dropping to cover his eyes as it had done many times before when he'd made himself take on the appearance of an eleven year old boy.

All too soon, that familiar little voice echoed in his ear.

'Well, well, well … look who we have here. Back again are we?

'Um, yes?'

'Hmm, will you ever get bored? Ah, but I sense you're here for a greater purpose this time. It's not simply for your own amusement.'

'Not exactly.'

Merlin tried to look anywhere but the office, where everyone was sitting watching expectantly.

'Hmmm … a very dangerous and ambitious task you've set yourself. Will you be able to accomplish it?'

'The only way to find out is to try.'

'Ha ha, you were always a determined one.'

'Come on, can't you just Sort me already?'

'I've told you before, and I shall tell you again. It is not my place to presume to Sort someone of your power, to judge the power and mystique of the Old Religion."

Merlin smiled in amusement.

'You're going to make me pick again aren't you? Come on, just tell me, what House would I really be in?'

'It is impossible to say. You are magic itself. You are everything all at once.'

'Still as infuriatingly cryptic as ever then?'

' … you must choose.'

Merlin glanced over at Harry, who was watching in interest.

'You are here to protect him are you not?'

'I am.'

'In that case, I wish you well. But be warned, the path before you is wrought danger. The hopes of the wizarding world rest on him and on you … Merlin.'

Merlin jumped, as the Hat called him by his name. He'd forgotten how it had felt to be called thus instead of hearing it used as an expression in everyday life.

'You must protect him, for all our sakes. And if you are to do that, better be … GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat roared this last word to the room, and Merlin grinned to see Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville clapping him enthusiastically.

Luna on the other hand, looked disappointed. "Hmm, I was so sure you'd be a Hufflepuff."

Merlin laughed, hoping one day he'd be able to tell her Hufflepuff had been his favourite House. Not dismissing the other Founders and their Houses, but Helga and himself had probably been the closest in temperament.

"Well, we had all better head down to the Feast," said McGonagall, looking distinctly pleased. "I must pass this hat over to Professor Flitwick for the Sorting."

They made their way through the castle, Merlin grinning at the prospect of another year in Gryffindor House. Although it had sometimes been full of prattish bullies, like Arthur had been when he first met him, he'd always enjoyed his time there.

They emerged into the Great Hall, and Merlin was blown away by a wave of nostalgia, seeing the Hall filled with eager students, floating candles hovering below the enchanted ceiling, golden plates gleaming at the four House tables just like it had done at the very first Opening Feat almost a millennium ago. The usual excited chatter of everyone there filled the room.

The chatter ceased slightly, as they made their way into the Hall. They were being stared at again.

But they determinedly ignored these stares, as they made their way down the Gryffindor table and seated themselves near those other two boys Merlin vaguely remembered from the battle: Dean and Seamus.

"Are you coming here this year?" Dean asked, staring at him.

"Yeah," grinned Merlin.

Seamus frowned slightly. "Aren't you a bit old?"

You have no idea.

"He's just been Sorted into Gryffindor," said Ginny, defensively. "Besides, with everyone repeating years we're all a bit older than we should be."

At this point, McGonagall had reached the top table, and passed the hat to the man Merlin assumed to be Professor Flitwick.

She spoke aloud to the school: "It is traditional for the Sorting Hat to sing a song before the Opening Feat and Sorting Ceremony every year. But with recent events, I wish to forego this." She looked around at them all, her face grave. "Just a few short months ago, where we are sitting now was the site of a tremendous and horrific battle for the school's very existence. Many brave men and women died to protect the school, many of them students. I would now like to take a few moments to remember those who fought and died for the freedom we now enjoy in this school, to remember the students, some not much older than yourselves, who refused to abandon the school to the Dark forces that threatened it and ended up paying the ultimate sacrifice. Please, a moment's silence."

And the hall fell silent. There wasn't a sound, except a few muffled sniffles from those who'd lost a family member. Merlin looked down at his plate, waiting for it to be over. He wasn't just remembering the people who'd died in the recent battle, but everyone he'd known and loved over the centuries, everyone he'd watched die. How many times had he sat in this hall surrounded by friends- friends who all too soon grew old and died? Memories of the first Opening Feat again came back to him; Rowena almost crying with happiness, Salazar smiling for once, Godric giving Helga her golden cup as a present … so long ago it seemed now.

He looked across at Harry, who was staring resolutely down at his plate. Merlin frowned; Harry didn't still blame himself did he?

The moments silence was finished, and Flitwick moved forwards and began to read the names of the new students in a squeaky voice.

"Harry," a voice came from Merlin's left. He turned to see the Gryffindor House ghost drifted down the table towards the table towards them. Merlin felt an icy brick drop into his stomach. He quickly turned his head, and pretended to be absorbed in the Sorting, hoping he wouldn't be noticed.

"Harry," he said, finally reaching them. "I'm so glad to see you back. I was worried for you this last year, and I'm delighted you have returned."

"Thanks, Nick," Harry said, smiling.

Sir Nicholas smiled back. "I must say, I am looking forward to this next year, I believe we may just-"

And then he broke off. Merlin turned to see Sir Nicholas staring at him, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

Crap! thought Merlin. Please don't give me away!

The ghosts had never revealed Merlin's secret, he wasn't sure why, but suspected it was due to an understanding; they all knew what it was like to watch the world steam ahead, leaving them behind to remain unchanged. But they'd all urged Merlin to tell them the truth at one point or another, to reveal his true identity. He never had though, not because he didn't trust them, just because he'd felt … well, he didn't know what he'd felt- just that he shouldn't.

He'd known Sir Nicholas particularly well; he'd even been a few years below him when he himself had attended Hogwarts back in the fifteenth century.

Sir Nicholas continued to gape at him, his translucent mouth opening and closing a few times, as he adjusted his shock at seeing him there.

Merlin noticed that the others were all staring at him in confusion. Damn it, Nick! Don't be too obvious for goodness sake!

"What's going on?" asked Ron, sounding suspicious.

Merlin looked at Sir Nicholas pointedly, widening his eyes slightly.

Sir Nicholas got the message and turned to watch the Sorting as 'Donnelly, Samantha' headed up to the stool to be Sorted.

"Oh, I hope she'll be in Gryffindor," he said pleasantly, trying to recover, but failing miserably.

Harry turned to stare at Merlin, a question in his eyes.

Merlin just shrugged in response, and tried to look as puzzled as the others. But somehow, he didn't think they were convinced.

The rest of the Sorting passed without much incident, as did the Feast. McGonagall's Start-of-Term announcements were mercifully short, her announcement about the Order of the Phoenix garnering wide spread whispering and staring at Harry. She introduced the two new teachers Professor Tayne, an extremely old-looking man, and Professor Connolly, a middle-aged witch. Merlin looked at them, and gently reached out with his mind, to brush against their consciousnesses. They seemed capable enough, and Merlin hoped they'd do well.

Before long, the feast had been dismissed, and the scraping of benches rang out over the Hall. Merlin hadn't really enjoyed the Feast as much as he usually did; he'd been far too occupied thinking about Nick and reminiscing about the Founders. It was only a further reminder of the lies he was telling the others. A reminder of how Merlin was once again deceiving the people he cared about.

They all began to make their way out of the Hall, before they were stopped.

"Miss Granger!"

McGonagall was hurrying up the space between the tables.

"Yes, professor?" Hermione asked timidly.

"No need to look so afraid Granger." McGonagall said, almost smiling. "I just thought I should give you this."

And she held out a shiny silver badge in her hand. 'HG'

For a second Merlin frowned- a badge with her initials on it? But then Hermione squeaked excitedly and blushed profusely. Merlin kicked himself mentally; not Hermione Granger, Head Girl.

"Really, professor?" Hermione asked, almost hopping with happiness.

McGonagall smiled. "There's no one who deserves it more. That is, if you think you can cope with all the extra work?"

Hermione nodded, speechless, reaching out a shaking hand to take the badge from McGonagall.

McGonagall placed in her hand. "Good. Mr MacMillan from Hufflepuff shall be your counterpart. I trust you can properly liaise with him concerning the execution of your duties?"

Hermione nodded again, her blush growing deeper.

"I must say, Miss Granger, I am extremely proud to give this to a Gryffindor student," McGonagall said. "You're the first Gryffindor girl to hold this position since young Mr Potter's mother, and before that, it was myself. I hope you can do us proud."

Hermione nodded weakly, looking almost as if she was going to burst into tears.

Harry and Ron, who were both grinning broadly, grabbed the slightly dazed Hermione and dragged her from the Great Hall.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said. "What kind of Head Girl will you be if you can't even make a coherent sentence?"

"Oh, I'm so happy!" she gushed, her eyes suspiciously wet. "I never thought this would happen, what with us missing last year!"

They began to climb the marble staircase, Hermione still looking slightly dazed. A hint of sadness overcame her face.

"I just wish …" she trailed away. "I just wish my mum and dad could've known about this. They'd have been so proud!"

"And they still will be," said Ron firmly, reaching forward and giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek, slightly surprising her. Despite being an official couple, they rarely showed any public displays of affection. "When all this is over, we'll all go to Australia and find them, and you'll be able to tell them everything. They're going to be so proud of you, Hermione."

Hermione blushed even deeper, if that was even possible.

They remained in companionable silence until they reached the portrait hole for the Gryffindor Common Room.

The Fat lady looked down at them all.

"Password?"

"Uh," said Harry.

Ron groaned. "Can't believe this; it's the second time tonight!"

"Yeah, you'd think we'd have learned from the first time." Merlin laughed.

The Fat Lady caught sight of him, and started slightly.

"Well, I suppose I might make an exception tonight," she said, her eyes still fixed on Merlin. "After all you did in the battle …"

She swung forward and let them in. Ron grinned and climbed up without question, but Harry looked around at Merlin, frowning.

Merlin pretended to be undeterred by this, and climbed up after Ron, acting as though this was completely natural.

First Sir Nicholas and now the Fat Lady; was everyone out to get him? He got that it must be a surprise for him to keep popping up over the centuries, but really, did they have to react like that every time?

He followed Ron up to the boy's dormitories, where an extra bed had been added for him.

He said hi to the other boys that were in there, and began getting ready for bed, trying not to notice the suspicious glances Harry kept shooting him.

He got into bed, and pulled the curtains closed around him, and closed his eyes, tired.

So, he was back. Back at the school he'd partly helped to create one thousand years ago.

Thirteen hundred years old …

He wondered how much longer his secret would last …

A/N: Whew! That was a long one!

Once again, the information relating to the Black family tapestry is all from the diagrams JK Rowling drew for the movie production of Order of the Phoenix. Eduardus Black was blasted off the tapestry for unknown reasons which I decided to commandeer for a minor plot detail. Dorea and Charlus Potter were also on the official diagram and I decided to go with the prevailing theory on the discussion forums on this one and make them James Potter's parents. As all pure-blood families are inter-related I thought it would have been weird for the Potters not to be on there somewhere, so I made up the plot point that James was blasted off, and Sirius just didn't mention it when he was talking to Harry about it in the Order of the Phoenix.

I know I went cliché having Merlin Sorted into Gryffindor, but I thought it made sense storywise- he had to be on-hand at all times to protect Harry. I'm honestly not sure what House Merlin would really be Sorted into; I think he'd fit in each of them. I do lean slightly towards Hufflepuff though; as brave and intelligent and cunning as he is, the entire BBC show is about his loyalty to Arthur and I thought that was what he truly exemplified along with his acceptance of others. Feel free to disagree- let me know what you think! :)