Yo, guess whose on time with an update? *cricket noises* Okay, so I am. Pretty obvious, huh? I'm proud of myself for getting this done, because I avoid the temptation of another story to do it.
Anyway, I love you all and your reviews always make my day, so I look forward to your feedback!
When he'd heard about the incident with the small bird Rowena created, Merlin was ecstatic. It meant that the girl was slowly learning how her magic worked. He had been nearly twice her age when Gaius had given him the spell book shortly after he arrived in Camelot. But even then, he'd had a functional understanding of how his magic worked: he asked it to do something and it did. If it could. Bringing people back to life or saving them from the brink of death was never easy or accomplished on his own.
But there was something more to it this time, something special about finding a student whose entire world is entrenched in a different kind of magic from theirs. It was that kind of brain-bending challenge that Merlin had been hoping for since he had said his goodbyes to Darius Kyddle. It was only fitting that Kyddle's so-many-times great granddaughter was the one bringing back the Old Magic.
Merlin set his grimoire on the corner of his desk. It was an old book with a leather cover and light brass ornamentation—a scholar's book—and it wasn't as if any of the students in his next class would be able to read it. Third year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, a class that should prove eventful in another way because Harry Potter was going to be in it.
From what he'd heard and seen, Harry was an average student who didn't seem to excel in anything that didn't hold his interest longer than ten minutes. But history's heroes often had lackluster beginnings. Merlin himself had been a servant for years before reports of his magic became common and even then they had called him Emrys rather than his name. It was by miracle alone—or perhaps some intervention on the part of Sir Geoffrey—that it was Merlin who was remembered.
In truth, Merlin saw a lot of himself in the boy—desperately trying to disappear back into the background and unsure how. Destiny had them both by the throat and it wasn't about to let go anytime soon.
Hermione Granger was the first one to arrive and she meticulously arranged her desk before tucking a gold chain back into her collar. Professor McGonagall had mentioned that the girl would be making use of a time-turner for her studies as she had elected to take several classes that met at the same time. A couple of Ravenclaw seventh years were also using them in order to complete their coursework before they sat their NEWTs. All of these students had acquired a special lecture in their use, as well as the approval of the Ministry of Magic.
Moments later, a cluster of Hufflepuffs arrived, followed closely by several Gryffindors he hadn't been formally introduced to yet. The other teachers had warned him about several of the students—like Seamus Finnegan, who managed to cause an explosion with a standard levitation spell. Or Neville Longbottom, who looked like a wrong look could shatter him.
Harry Potter ran in just as Merlin was about to begin class. Ron Weasley was tripping after him.
"Sorry, we were trying—Hermione! Where did you disappear to?"
In the front row, Ms. Granger rolled her eyes before turning to them. "Class, obviously. Now sit down, for heaven's sake!"
They did, in the back row, but neither of them moved to take out any parchment to take notes or their books to follow along.
Perhaps by next class, Merlin thought, reading the disinterest in many faces throughout the room.
"As you all know," he said, starting this class like the last one. "I am not a ghost, nor have I taught you in previous years. So I want to know what you know."
There it was, the subtly disguised groans, the slouching shoulders, students reluctantly reaching towards their bags for a quill.
"So tell me. What do you know about the history of magic? It can be something you learned in this class, something your parents told you, something you read in a book…" His eyes turned toward Ms. Granger of their own accord. "Maybe something you were told once, but aren't sure is true. Anything."
He made a wide sweeping gesture with his hands before putting them together and sitting forward. This was the moment he loved, the look of utter confusion when no quiz paper appeared on his desk or the desk in front of them. Then the dawning realization that this was neither a lecture nor a test, but a conversation. Ms. Granger's hand shot up first.
"Yes, Ms. Granger?"
"To date, wizards and goblins have the best working arrangement of any magical creature, though that is based largely on the many bloody goblin rebellions and the fear that, since the goblins control Gringotts, the wizarding financial system would completely break down if any move was made against them."
"Excellent connections, Ms. Granger! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
The effect was less competitive than the debate between the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins that Luna had opened, but it was there nevertheless. If anyone could mention anything, everyone wanted their say. Some of the more uncertain ones quoted well-known facts, while others decided to come up with the most obscure.
The quiet chime that signaled the end of class came much sooner than anyone wanted.
"Before you leave, I wanted to let you know that your homework is to read the first chapter of the book on the Druidic peoples. And the final for my class, in place of an exam, is a presentation on a period of history that you find particularly interesting. Come to class next week with a tentative topic. I want to make sure that no one is focusing on the exact same things. You may work in groups of no more than two. Dismissed."
Students shuffled out quickly, congregating back in the groups they had arrived with. And Ms. Granger approached his desk.
"Professor Balinor? Where did you get that book?" She asked, pointing at the grimoire. In fact, she couldn't seem to keep her eyes off of it.
"I've had it for many years. My mentor gave it to me to help me learn magic." Both statements, he realized with pride, were completely true. "Why do you ask?"
"You're sure it's not possessed by some kind of dark magic?"
"Absolutely certain."
"Okay, but…" She stopped and looked up at him. "I could have sworn that it's been whispering to me most of the class period."
"Really?" He picked up the grimoire, weighing it in his hand.
I thought Ms. Granger was progressing quickly with new magic. An affinity for Old Magic is usually associated with difficulty with new magic… His mind raced through a hundred different questions that he dismissed with a shake of his head. "Ms. Granger, I wonder if you would do something for me."
"Yes, sir?"
"Put your wand down on the desk and hold out your hand, palm up, please."
She did so, though she looked loathe to be separated from her wand.
Merlin took a deep breath. If he was right, he would need to change all of his assumptions about Old Magic and start from the very beginning. "Now I want you to say 'leoht'."
"Leoht."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then a small orb of pure light grew into existence, hovering over her palm. With a cry, Hermione jerked her hand away as if it had burned her.
"But that's wandless magic! And that's like no incantation I've ever learned!"
"But it explains why the grimoire was calling to you. It chose you as its next caster." He held it out to her, and she took it, even though he could see her hands shaking. After a moment, the orb of light winked out of existence. "The magic isn't too different. It's just an older form of what we generally use now. But you'll want to work on reading and pronouncing Old English. It's one of the languages of power and it doesn't respond to translation spells. And don't use any spells with your wand unless you want to burn it out or explode. They tend to overwhelm the wand core."
She nodded as she picked up her wand from the desk, but she looked like she was still processing everything that had just happened. "Is there anyone else that can do…that?"
"At least one other, besides me. But that person can't use new magic at all—a true genetic throwback. I don't know about anyone else yet, but I think I should start looking now because that's a lot of dormant power." Merlin was starting a mental list of all the people he should definitely test, and it was getting longer by the second. "I'll have to take it up with the other teachers. How could I have missed this? All those years waiting by the stupid lake and it takes a complete genetic throwback to get me to actually look for things? Somebody in Avalon is laughing at me."
At that moment, Merlin realized that Hermione was still in the room, looking at him with a look of curiosity and confusion.
"I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to an old man berate himself for stupidity," he joked. "You should probably head to the library to find something to help you read Old English. You can ask those questions later."
She seemed to realize that she was staring at him, and shook herself. "Sorry, professor. See you next class."
Merlin knew as he watched her leaving that she was going to look up the things he had mentioned when he slipped. She might get somewhere with a lake and Avalon, but her leads would end there. Their history books may have remembered Merlin well enough, but they didn't include Balinor, the last dragonlord, or Hunith, the mother of Merlin. And until Arthur returned, he would hold onto those memories, honoring them in his own way.
At the mid-weekly staff meeting, all of the other teachers wanted to know how Merlin was handling the class. Apparently a record number of students had approached Madam Pince about finding books about one historical period or another and several students in Professor Snape's potions class had their magical history textbooks out beside their potions books, reading while they stirred.
"…and I've never seen Cuthbert so excited or so jealous before," Professor Sprout was saying. "He said something about borrowing your book from the headmaster so he could read it for himself."
"I'm sure I have an extra copy somewhere if he wants it." Merlin moved to go.
"No, it's fine," Professor McGonagall said putting a hand on Merlin's arm. "Cuthbert prefers to read a book before he decides to keep it. And he is usually very set in his ways. His previous textbooks were ones he found in the library. He's lectured from his notes so much that he doesn't even need to look at them anymore."
"Oh? Perhaps I should ask if I can see them, find out what he would have been covering this year."
"No." Professor Snape, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, sat forward. "Most students have had or will have many years of his lectures about goblin rebellions and wizarding government structures. You've gotten them excited about history, which is something that we don't often see around here."
"Oh. Really? History is fascinating; it's how we know where we come from." And some people end up part of it, Merlin thought, mentally citing himself and Dumbledore and Harry Potter.
"Yes, but not everyone is interested dry fact, which is how history is usually presented. You have engaged them, inspired them. We may have a few future historians in their midst if you continue your teaching this way." McGonagall smiled. "You make an excellent teacher."
Merlin smiled to himself. I've had a lot of practice. "That brings me to someone I wanted to ask about. I know that there are several students that are having trouble with normal spells. I had the same problem when I was first learning to control my magic."
"Really?" Professor Flitwick moved closer. "How did you overcome it?"
"Well…" Merlin had rehearsed this part in his head, but saying it aloud made the story depend more on the believability of his story rather than some private centuries-old fact. "My mentor knew a different kind of magic—one that didn't naturally need a wand or any other form of a focus. I apparently had an affinity to that kind of magic first."
"You had an affinity for wandless magic before anything else?" Professor Lupin joined the conversation from where he had been grading quiz papers at a nearby desk.
"…Yes." Merlin shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't lying exactly, but their incredulity was shaking his resolve. "I think the recent incident in Minerva's class was a display of this kind of magic."
"The incident that has the whole student body crying 'dark magic'?"
"Yes. My mentor called it Old Magic. He said that it could accomplish more with less of a drain on the caster's power."
Across the table, McGonagall nodded, folding her hands on the table. "So creating a new creature out of thin air…"
"Takes about as much magic as regular spell," he finished, nodding. "Look. Gewyrc an lif."
Light shimmered above Merlin's palm before forming into a small, supernaturally blue butterfly. It had been the first thing he had cast after reconnecting with his magic in the Crystal Cave. Morgana's trick may have destroyed what he recognized as his magic core, but it could never deprive him of magic completely.
Morgana was suddenly in front of him again as he stabbed her with Arthur's sword. It echoed in his ears—the sharp, pained intake of breath as the blade slipped easily into her body. So many expressions passed over her face: fear, pain, shock, hate, love, betrayal, understanding, and, strangest of all, regret.
He had known this moment would come, and still it twisted in his gut now that it was here. He had to kill her. And this time it was far more intimate than killing Nimueh—there was no magic involved in it, just Merlin and Morgana and a sword.
It occurred to him absently, as he heard Arthur shifting in his armor behind him, that Merlin had a terrible habit of killing people that Arthur loved. Uther, Agravaine, and now Morgana. Their blood would always be on his hands.
"Emery? Emery, are you alright?" Someone put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, drawing him out of his memories.
He drew in a deep breath. "Yes. Sorry, I was just thinking of the last time I cast that spell. It was a long time ago."
"Bad memories?" This from Professor Sprout.
"No, just sad. People who died a long time ago and still haunt me. Did I get around to asking about creating a extracurricular activity for people with that kind of magic?"
If the professors were surprised by the sudden shift in topic, they didn't show it. "How do you intend to test for this kind of magic?" Professor Lupin asked, the quizzes forgotten.
"Like this. Leoht." An orb of blue light appeared in the center of Merlin's palm and rose to hover in the center of the room. "I have students who are interested attempt to cast it. The magic is extremely responsive and should give an indication as to whether or not the student has an affinity for it."
The room was silent as many of the teachers stared up at the ball of light.
"We should talk to the Headmaster…" McGonagall started to say before Snape cut her off.
"The Headmaster always seems to have other concerns on his mind than a few students with a magical learning disability. As Miss Kyndltry is in my house and is likely the one who stands to benefit the most from this club or activity, I would like to see this taken care of now. If it will ease your minds, I will sit in on all the meetings and ensure that nothing untoward is happening."
The rest of the professors didn't look too convinced. Finally McGonagall, who had assumed the role of their spokeswoman, replied, "I suppose that shouldn't be a problem. And I can authorize this as deputy headmistress. That child has needed someone on her side for a while. Do look into Mr. Finnegan and Mr. Longbottom; I believe that one or both of them will prove adept with this old magic."
As if a dam had burst, the meeting turned into a conversation about what students should be tested, and Merlin was glad of their input; it narrowed down his list immensely.
And he was going to be teaching magic again. The last time he had done that, Darius Kyddle had been a child and Hogwarts had been in its infancy. He wasn't exactly sure what this resurgence of Old Magic meant for the rest of the world—or even for him—but it was exciting in a way that nothing had been for a long time. And for once, Merlin would wait and see what came of it.
Hope to have another chapter for all of you in two weeks, from Harry's perspective this time. Until then, please leave your wonderful or critical reviews.
