You guys have been asking for some answers, so I figured that I'd stop spontaneously killing people/adding suspense and start piecing together the mess that my fanfiction has turned into. So -here's piece one. Hope you get some semi-satisfactory answers...
Trigger warning: mentions of mental instability and captivity.
The train had pulled into Platform 9¾. Hermione had already found her family, and the remaining Mavericks were now searching for the Weasleys. Merlin would be staying at the Burrow in his spare time, and the excitement at that prospect somewhat neutralized the horrible events that had been cropping up in his life lately.
"I'm not going to be staying with you long," Merlin warned the twins. "Maybe for a few days, tops. If Lee hasn't shown up, I'm going out to find him."
"We're coming with you, then," Fred commented offhandedly as he searched over the crowd for his family. "And there's no discussion."
Merlin shook his head hastily. "You can't. It'll be dangerous."
George snorted. "Honestly, Merlin. You think we don't know that? Lee's our friend, too, you know -if you don't let us come, we're sneaking out anyways and then you won't be there to protect us."
Before Merlin could reply, an ear-piercing shriek reached his ears and the three of them turned; a well-rounded redheaded woman had pushed her way through the crowd. As Merlin watched, she flung her arms around the twins and they squeaked in protest.
"Mum!"
"-Can't breathe -"
The woman (Molly Weasley, Merlin assumed), hadn't yet let them go. Fred was turning blue.
"Thank Merlin you're safe," she whispered into their ears. Merlin backed away a few steps, feeling a little uncomfortable that he'd overheard the personal moment. "I heard that there were attacks -I had no idea what was going on, if you were all right, until Ginny sent me an owl..."
Fred and George pulled away. "We're fine," they assured her, glancing to Merlin. "We're here now, aren't we?"
Molly nodded, chuckling sentimentally. "By some miracle, you and your friends are safe."
Evidently, she hasn't heard about Lee yet...
Merlin edged away further, but that only served to draw Molly's attention. "And you must be Myrddin!" She exclaimed, shaking off her emotion to smile at him. He returned it hesitantly, and she misinterpreted that as an invitation to smother him with her arms. The last thing that he saw before he was enveloped by Mrs. Weasley's embrace was George grinning at him with an unhealthy amount of mirth.
Can't breathe, Merlin panicked temporarily. How do I get out of this? Should I make a run for it? Stun her with a spell?
He chose neither option and instead allowed himself to be suffocated for a few more moments. "You're very huggable," Mrs. Weasley praised, letting him go. "I can see why my sons like you."
"...Thanks." Having gotten over his panic attack, he grinned at her, finding himself genuinely liking the woman.
They chatted for a few minutes about nothing (the conversation seemed to be deliberately veering away from the events at school). The other Weasley children gradually drifted over to their little clump of gingers, and soon the family was leaving the platform through the barrier.
He emerged from the other side and -
"Oh. My. Gods." He froze in front of the barrier, mouth open, goggling at the ticking/dinging/roaring/et cetera of the foreign technology bits around him.
Fred and George popped from the barrier behind him and the three immediately collided in a tangle of legs and arms and trunks. Merlin found himself sprawled on the ground as the twins picked themselves up, brushing themselves off and wincing.
"So I take it that you've discovered the muggle world, then," George grinned at him sideways. "Not a small world after all, huh?"
Merlin emitted a unidentifiable noise. "What...are they insane? Don't they worry that the technology they're making is dangerous? What if it decides to attack them?"
Fred shrugged. "Sure, they worry. That's why they made The Terminator. They just don't do anything about it. Muggles are weird, mate, don't question it." A second family flew through the barrier. After another unfortunate mess of limbs that involved an embarrassing amount of apologies, they managed to detach themselves and moved away from the barrier, following the rest of the Weasley family. Merlin walked beside Fred and George, staring wide-eyed at the whirring/ticking/dinging/et cetera of the foreign bits of technology surrounding him.
"What's that?" He asked, pointing at a twisted piece of metal with wheels.
"That's a car."
"What's that?"
"It's a...giant car with wings."
"That's called an airplane, Fred," Percy corrected.
"What's that?"
"That's a baby...?"
"Oh." Merlin squinted. "That's a weird-looking baby. Why does it have wheels?"
"Erm -that's the baby's stroller. The whole thing isn't a baby, just the little flesh blob inside."
The conversation continued like this for several more minutes (Merlin still wasn't convinced that the Muggle inventions were one hundred percent safe) before they came to a blue car. In the driver seat of the car sat a redheaded man.
"Finally!" The man exclaimed. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost!" He stepped out of the car and, one by one, hugged his children. "Let me guess," he said as he came to Merlin. "You're Myrddin."
Merlin nodded, grinning. "That's me," he confirmed.
"I'm Arthur!" Arthur pumped Merlin's hand enthusiastically and didn't seem to notice Merlin's wince (at both the aggressive handshake and at the name). "Arthur Weasley! It's very nice to meet -"
"Hang on," Merlin interrupted, having realized the full implications of the Ford Angelina. "Don't tell me -"
"Yup," Fred nodded cheerfully from beside him. "Enjoy the ride." He twisted the car's door handle and -to Merlin's shock -the handle popped off completely. "Oh," Fred continued, frowning. "That's not supposed to happen. Don't worry, it's just really old and it breaks sometimes."
Merlin gaped at him. "Don't worry?" He exclaimed incredulously. "I am going to worry, thank you! It's a car! It's broken! It can't possibly fit all of us in it at once, I'm going to be falling out and then I'll be dead and it'll be your fault and you had better come to my funeral, Fred Weasley -"
"Merlin, it's all right," George interjected, valiantly failing to hide his smirk. "It's bigger on the inside. And -" he lowered his voice. "-You can't die, remember?"
"I hate you."
"Did I mention that it also flies?"
"Oh, you have got to be k-"
Meanwhile.
Lee regained consciousness abruptly to something wet and mushy in his ear.
"Yaah!" He started awake, yelping as the wet and mushy thingummy withdrew with a squelching noise. "What -"
He twisted his head ninety degrees and came face-to-face with a wide-eyed purple face with large ears and a Cheshire grin. They stared at each other for several seconds as Lee's brain turned fully on. He didn't recognize the animal -some sort of imp, maybe, or a pixie.
"...What are you?" Lee began tentatively. "Can you talk?"
It continued to stare. It continued to grin. Lee's ear was still wet, and after a few moments he realized exactly what had been the wet and squishy thing that had been stuck in his ear.
"Hang on -" Lee gawked. "Did you just -was that your tongue? Did you wake me up by sticking your tongue into my ear?"
"Yabberjabber!" The impish creature nodded, sticking out said tongue as if to prove a point. The tongue was completely round, jellyfish pink, and had (moving!) black hairs poking out from the fleshy skin. Lee grimaced and attempted to recoil -but found that he couldn't. He was being restrained by...something.
Hang on. Where am I?
He'd been so focused on the creature's tongue that he hadn't really paid much attention to his surroundings. His head was throbbing, and there was something sharp digging into his back...several somethings, actually, but he couldn't twist himself around to see what they were because he was tied up with some sort of cord. In front of him was an enormous pile of...well, he couldn't really say what it was because the pile seemed to consist of everything. Stuff, to be accurate. There was a muggle fridge, and an unlocked pixie-sized cage, and a set of broomsticks, and several cabinets and trunks and mirrors and lanterns and as many random unrelated items that Lee could imagine. In fact, the entire room -for as far as Lee could see -had similar junk piles.
What is this, some sort of magical landfill?
The impixie was still staring at him, breathing raspily as if it had mucus stuck in its throat.
"Where am I?" Lee asked it, not really expecting a lucid response.
"Nabaglibbotti," the impixie responded, nodding solemnly and tugging on one of Lee's dreadlocks. "Bibribble."
Lee rolled his eyes. "So I suppose you won't tell me who tied me up? How did I get here, anyway?"
The impixie crossed its arms, blinked, and then pointed to Lee's head. "Rawr."
Lee regarded it, scrunching his eyebrows together. "You've got a point," he conceded. "Maybe if I concentrate -" He squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing as he searched his memory for anything at all, but found nothing -the last thing that Lee remembered was standing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with the other Mavericks, but even that was annoyingly blurry. "Damn."
It was highly likely that his short-term amnesia had some connection to the dull throbbing in the side of his skull.
"Okay, then," Lee began again. "Let's try something that you might be able to explain. What did they look like?" The impixie stared at him quizzically, so Lee elaborated. "Was it a student, or a teacher, or neither? Did it look like a man, or a woman, or -"
BOOM.
Lee's cascade of questions cut short as the sound of a heavy door slamming echoed through the vast room.
Dip. Dap. Dip. Dap.
Footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Lee's new friend squeaked, purple hands flying to its mouth, and flitted away on dragonfly-like wings. The footsteps rounded a mound of objects, and then -
"Welcome," a scratchy voice emerged from the person's throat as he grinned maliciously. "Sorry about the mess."
Lee studied the man's face. Sharp features, maniacally handsome...his uneven eyebrows framed eyes dancing with borderline insanity and several days worth of stubble stretched across his jaw. The rest of his appearance was gaunt and ragged -his shirt and pants were filthy and littered with holes. His hair was grown out and messy (runner-up to Harry Potter), every inch of visible skin was covered in grime, and his shoes were white converse that made Lee shiver -because wizards didn't wear converse. He must have...taken them from a muggle.
"Who are you?"
The man and Lee had asked the questions simultaneously. The man glared, as if speaking in unison was the greatest crime that Lee could've committed.
"My name is Lee," Lee replied, wide-eyed, and was surprised as a maliciously amused grin spread across the man's features.
"Oh, good," the man rasped. "I was worried that I'd abducted the wrong child."
That sent more chills down Lee's back. He was gunning for me specifically? "I...uh...okay. Who are you, though, really?"
"Barty Crouch," the man replied, turning away from Lee to inspect a fishbowl with living goldfish cowering inside. "I suppose you've heard of me?"
"But...Barty Crouch -" Lee frowned. "I thought Barty Crouch senior died! He was murdered! And you don't look like -"
"I'm NOT Barty Crouch Senior!" Crouch whirled, eyes ablaze with unforeseen fury. "I am nothing like that filthy blood tr-"
"You're his son, then?" Lee had pieced the information together quickly. "I mean, you're a little too old to be his dad..."
Crouch grunted noncommittally. His random fit had dissipated almost as quickly as it had come. He went back to examining the goldfish. Lee approached his next question cautiously -Crouch was obviously mentally unstable.
"I didn't know he had a son."
"He doesn't talk about me. I'm unworthy." Crouch's voice was bursting with poorly-repressed loathing. Lee couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the guy, until his next words. "He's a blood traitor, like you, dirty muggle lover. Until he was killed, and I escaped."
"Ouch," Lee grumbled. "I may be a muggle lover, but I take baths." He'd said it so softly that Crouch didn't hear him -or maybe he was just too immersed in the goldfish to bother listening. Then, a little louder: "How did I get here?"
Crouch's answer was barely a mutter. "Bumped you on the head. Entrance to this place in the pumpkin patch -bloody entrances are everywhere -dragged you to the place where all things are hidden, tied you up."
Hang on, wait -
Crouch's vague explanation had sparked a fuzzy memory in Lee's mind. As he thought more, events began to flood back to him...like a cracked dam, bits of memories leaked out here and there before, all at once, the dam burst.
Okay, Lee, the diary agreed. I'll show you.
Sucked into the diary, Tom Riddle, Hagrid...
Hagrid is the Heir. Disbelief, what? No.
Laying up all night, thinking...an overwhelming desire to know the truth...
Morning. Sneaking down to Hagrid's hut, just to talk, entering in the back, but -
Hit on the head before I even knocked on Hagrid's door.
And then his memories were black, and Lee was back in the present. Lee cursed himself silently.
I am such an IDIOT! What came over me? Why would I go to Hagrid's hut without telling the others?
If Lee's hands had been free, he would have buried his face in them and never emerge. I have a hero's complex, that's what. Am I jealous of Merlin or something? Do I want the glory?
Or maybe the diary had influenced him. Either way, the whole situation was just...stupid.
"So, then," Lee ventured, temporarily pushing off the anger directed at himself. "Who's the real heir of Slytherin?"
Barty Crouch turned. His lips twisted into a feral leer. Lee had a sudden overwhelming feeling of dread.
"In a month?" Crouch laughed. "You."
Then without warning, he turned and left, with Lee gaping after him as his footsteps faded away.
BOOM.
Oh, bloody hell.
"So this is where you'll be sleeping," Fred began, gesturing widely to the rainbow mosh that vaguely resembled a bedroom. "It's also our room, so it won't be much different from our dorm at school..."
"Except that Lee's not here."
Merlin didn't mean for the comment to slip out -the room immediately darkened at the mention of their friend's name.
"Yeah." The three traded uncomfortable glances. They hadn't really talked about Lee yet -for the most part, Merlin had been avoiding the thought of him for fear that he would start bawling. Fred and George seemed to be doing the same.
There were a lot of words going unspoken in the Weasley household, actually -for one, Molly and Arthur hadn't yet heard of the death of Dumbledore. Merlin was sure that there would be a letter about it sent home sometime in the near future, and quite possibly a funeral, but neither had come yet and Merlin wasn't eager to push the events into happening.
Neither Weasley parent had asked the reason behind the children's returns, either. They seemed to intuitively know that it was a topic being avoided, and were temporarily content with being in the dark.
"So," Fred nodded, shutting the door on their room and continuing the tour of the Burrow. "If you keep going, you'll see the bathroom -it takes up an entire floor and there's no way to navigate around it, which I think is a little inconvenient on our grandparent's part because when someone is going to the bathroom, you either have to wait or -"
"I get it," Merlin nodded, snorting. "Continue."
"...Okay. So on the next floor..."
...
"...And here's Ronnie's room!" The twins burst into their brother's bedroom loudly and Ron leapt up from where he and Harry were on the floor playing Gobstones.
"Gah!" Ron's ears went red. "Do you ever knock?"
Then they saw Merlin behind the twins and they blanched.
"Erm, hi, Myrddin." Ron coughed nervously. "I don't think we've been properly introduced -"
"Yes, we have," Merlin interrupted, barely suppressing a mischievous grin. "Don't you remember?"
"N-no -"
"In the Hospital Wing, when you two came running in yelling about mind control."
The ditzes visibly relaxed. "Right. That time." Harry sighed, shaking his head. "I don't think that technically counts as an introduction, does it?"
"Nah, I guess not. Hermione didn't count it either."
They started, and glanced at each other. "Hang on, you've met Hermione?"
"'Course I've met Hermione. I'm her friend."
"You're her friend?" Ron's jaw dropped. "But we're her friend!"
Fred and George glanced at each other, lips twitching. "We'll just leave you three to talk out your problems." They subtly slipped from the conversation and the door clicked shut to leave Harry, Ron, and Merlin alone.
Well. This talk was bound to happen sometime. Resigned to his fate, Merlin crossed the room and fell onto Ron's bed, lazily kicking off his shoes.
"Hermione can have more than one friend," Merlin told them, raising an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"
Ron's face flushed further. "No!"
Merlin LOL'd. "Nah, 'course you aren't."
"You're right, I'm not."
"Nope."
"Not at all."
The redhead and the warlock stared at each other for several agonizing seconds. Harry's gaze travelled back and forth between the two nervously.
"...What do you talk to Hermione about?" Ron ventured after a moment, further proving Merlin's point, but he let it slide.
"Ah, you know." Merlin shrugged.
"That was so unbelievably vague," Harry commented idly. "Are you just one of those people who don't answer anything properly?"
Merlin grunted noncommittally, reclining further on the bed and folding his arms behind his head.
There was a long silence. Merlin could imagine the two exchanging meaningful glances and mouthing words to each other, but he was too indifferent to check. Finally, Harry spoke up timidly. His voice was suddenly quiet.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"What?" Merlin frowned, confused at the change of tone. "What loss? I didn't -" Then he realized. "Oh. Right, that loss." Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. As far as they know, I just lost my father.
"I liked Dumbledore, I mean," Harry began, and Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at what was bound to be the beginning of a condolences speech. "He was like...a grandfather to me, almost, but I can't imagine what it would be like to lose your actual dad."
Merlin locked his jaw together. Part of him really, really wanted to interrupt, but the stronger part of him was mostly just amused.
"I know that I lost my parents," he continued. "But that was a long, long time ago. I was just a baby, I didn't remember, I didn't have many feelings about it then. And to have lost your dad so suddenly, to be ripped from your life so violently by some heartless bastard...it's horrible. I know that I feel horrible, so I can't even imagine how you must feel." Harry paused, fidgeting, before swallowing and finishing his monologue. "And if you have the opportunity, give my regards to...Snape. And just know that I'm here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on."
Merlin buried his face into his pillow, shaking with laughter. You are so insensitive, he reprimanded himself, but he couldn't seem to stop.
"Mate, I think you really choked him up," he heard Ron tell Harry earnestly. "Look, he's crying."
That did it.
"OHMYGODS, I can't take it anymore!" Merlin burst, flinging the pillow from his head to face two very bemused Gryffindors. "I just can't! Did you two honestly think -" he cut himself off with a laugh/choke.
Harry and Ron glanced at each other.
"Um, what?"
"I'm not the lovechild of Dumbledore and Snape," Merlin grinned. "I may have black hair and have random bursts of power, but my genes are one hundred percent Snumbledore free."
Harry and Ron stared at Merlin as he sprang from the bed. "Now, if you two don't mind," Merlin continued, crossing the room, "I'm going to go raid the kitchen."
He left.
"What..." Ron began, staring at his friend. "But..."
"I think we've just been had," Harry reckoned weakly, still gazing blankly at the door. He was still confused, but less so than he had been before being told that Snape didn't have a thing for Dumbledore. "Ron, are we idiots?"
"Nah." Ron waved a hand immediately. "'Course not. We figured out the mind control thing, didn't we?"
"Yeah..." Harry nodded, only temporarily convinced. "It's just...sometimes, I feel like we're missing something."
Ron paused a moment, considering. "Yeah, nope," he concluded. "We're certified geniuses. We're good."
Harry shrugged, and they continued playing Gobstones.
After I reread this chapter I realized that the 'wet and mushy' part sounded vaguely sexual. It wasn't supposed to be, but laugh if you like...I laughed at myself when I realized what I'd written, anyways. I also realized that the amount of dialogue in this chapter makes it a bit rushed, so sorry about that.
Thanks to FateOfChaos for suggesting Lee's hero complex -I really liked that idea, I hadn't even noticed before you mentioned it! And thanks to toe walker and WaitingForLife2Begin for suggesting the London train noisy thing. (I'm so specific.) Also to WaitingForLife2Begin for the 'sorry for your loss' Dumbledore bit. And Kudos to Teekalin for guessing that Lee was in the Room of Requirement! Your suggestions are all bloody brilliant! (I can say 'bloody' if I like! I don't care if I'm American and it sounds so bloody weird with my bloody accent! Gah.)
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