"Sword in the stone, huh?" Harry asked rhetorically. "So tell me, all I have to do is yank this thing free and you'll call me King?" He asked the group of squires and knights and would-be-kings standing, sitting, kneeling, or otherwise taking a rest before the trial of the Kingmaker.
A haughty fellow scowled at him, and Harry was reminded quite pleasantly of Lucius Malfoy. He happened to owe the bastard a spell or two in the gut for the last time they met, but he was willing to let it be for the moment, at least until he could confirm the common ancestry of the man.
"As if you could pull it free, squib," the man insulted him quite readily. The outfit Harry wore was not one that should have fit in with the timeline, and he did not care very much, either. He stepped up and planted a foot toward either side of the stone, set his shoulders, and leaned in. Then with one hand wrapped around the hilt, he whispered Caliburn's true name and the name of the earth magic that bound it to the rock, and felt it ease into his hand on the withdrawal.
"Figures. After all, if I'm here, than that means a Harry Potter would have arrived here eventually. The story line requires it, after all."
"H... how? How?" the possibly-related-to-the-Malfoy's knight demanded as Harry stepped back from the now-useless stone, Caliburn cradled in one arm like a newborn babe.
"Destiny, fate, born to take it up, you name it and it probably applies," Harry answered him without a care. "Regardless, that should have been 'H... how, how, your highness'. Do try to keep your manners in mind or I'll have to cut off your head for the insult."
The knight's teeth ground together as it finally occurred to the rest of those present that their King had been chosen. More of the same questions flooded him from the others present, save one; the oldest man that had been sitting down. His blue gaze flicked over Harry several times in silence, as if appraising his worth.
Harry let his aura flood the surroundings and knock out the Muggles and Squibs present. Which left only a wizard standing opposite him.
"Lets cut the crap and get straight into the heart of the matter, shall we?" Harry asked the possibly-older man.
"I remember you, King Potter." He answered.
Harry smiled. "I'd expect so from the wizard that developed and introduced mortal-based backwards-through-time magical theory. I happen to know the old girl that taught the basis to you, as a matter of fact." He responded.
Merlin didn't seem surprised. "I remember you saying that." He said.
Harry lowered Caliburn. "Then do you remember how long I hung around this world, or shall I just jump onward with a slightly-handy sword to go cut down my next Voldemort?"
"That I can not tell you, King Potter," Merlin answered him reluctantly. "You were ever hidden from prying eyes and locked away within your tower after this while I lived - a great hundred years, and more," Merlin explained, "such is the way of what will come to be, for I am never around you if ever you would emerge."
Harry shrugged. "Good. Next time I show up, make sure to help give me a sword," he paused and reached into his robes, into the armory stored within one pocket, and stowed Caliburn into an already-forming-slot to hold the legendary weapon.
Next to it he drew out one of the lesser Godric Gryffindor blades acquired in his travels and pressed it into Merlin's aged hands. "You'll know the right time." And with those words spoken, the air began to rumble ominously.
"Sounds like the me you were actually looking for is on his way here from the far flung future. Be a good sport and shove that back into the stone for me, yeah?" Harry asked him as an altogether far more concerning noise began to rumble and groan, dwarfing the sound of time travel in its wake.
Merlin kept his balance and stepped away, but a look of distant puzzlement filled his eyes, as if one saw the future with this Harry, and one saw another with the new Harry coming.
"Your future-sight is strong, Merlin, but it doesn't account for inter-dimensional travelers." Smiling for the first time in a long time, he felt his blood begin to boil and stir the longer he resisted the draw of the jump, and at last with an echoing peal of thunder the likes of which would never again be replicated in this world, reality buckled and folded before Harry just as the Harry that was meant to arrive here did just that some distance further.
Merlin clutched his head at the mental backlash and paradox of two of the same man appearing before him occurred, and the clash of futures and realities within those futures raged.
A split second after the intended-Harry arrived and the Harry that had landed here solely to claim Caliburn on his journey vanished into the nexus and void, and so was thrown forward to his next world and next foe, or tool of assistance.
Merlin staggered like a drunkard over to the stone and stabbed Godric Gryffindor's sword in to the hilt with a sort of paralyzed determination, a numbness of mind that pushed him to operate on instinct alone. A few seconds later he sank to his knees, bowed his forehead to one, and drifted to slumber in his exhaustion.
It was as such that the Harry that was meant to arrive there would stumble through to the scene some time later and be surprised by the sight that awaited him.
That would do nothing to prevent him from drawing the legendary blade, or such that he mistook it for, despite recognizing it for Gryffindor's sword and the mystery surrounding the mix up of the names. He would likewise assume Gryffindor's sword was actually named Excalibur originally, despite all reason not to, and so utilize the basilisk infused metal and his tutelage under Merlin and the sages of that time to kill his own Voldemort after returning to the future, all without ever learning the truth.
A/N: Another few days of idle amusement a year or two ago. Intended as a parody of the usual 'Harry goes back in time and meets Merlin' fics.