A/N: Sorry for not updating last week! But University is killing me! Forgive me? :)
Merlin's heart was racing as the kitchen of Grimmauld Place slowly filled with the members of the Order, so slowly it was excruciating. One by one Order members who had been dragged away from their Saturday afternoon activities by the Patronuses Merlin and McGonagall had sent out filed in, looking a mixture of confusion, excitement and dread. All the Weasleys sat along one side of the table, all of them shooting questions at Ron as to what was going on, but he just shook his head and nodded meaningfully at Merlin; he wasn't going to explain anything until Merlin did. Professors Sprout, Slughorn and Flitwick were also there. Although not official members of the Order, they had been there when Merlin had made his discovery and could hardly been discounted now. Flitwick had joined them after his meeting with the Miller girl, in which he had broken the bad news to her gently and escorted her to one of her Muggle aunt's houses to be looked after. Remus was also there looking tired after his previous night's transformation, but not as badly as he usually did, thanks to Merlin's modified potion. He smiled at Merlin almost nervously.
Merlin didn't smile back, he couldn't. A sick feeling was growing in his stomach as he remembered the look of fear in that young girl's eyes when Flitwick had taken her away. She went from being a twelve-year old girl celebrating her first victory in a Quidditch match to an orphan within a few moments. A silent fury was raging within him.
His hands were shaking with suppressed anger. Fawkes, who was perched on Merlin's lap, crooned softly. Merlin's burden immediately felt lighter, and he reached out and placed his hands over his soft warm feathers and felt the raging tempest inside of him subside slightly. He gripped Fawkes' feathers tightly, the soothing sensation that came from the bird seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane.
Harry was sitting across from Merlin at the table and his eyes kept flitting between the steady stream of Order members coming in through the kitchen door and where Merlin was sitting. Merlin could feel the impatience radiating off of him. He wanted the meeting to begin; he needed to know where Voldemort was hiding.
It was all Merlin could do not to rush off himself to where Morgana and her minion were hiding and blast the place into pieces. He had to restrain himself; even for him, attacking the place like that would be dangerous. Voldemort was no problem, but all of his Death Eaters working against him at the same time would be enough to at least test him, and he knew he would need all of his power to defeat Morgana. Her power rivalled his own just enough to pose a serious threat. If he let his guard down for even a moment she might win an advantage. He couldn't afford to be distracted. He had to bide his time for the opportune moment, despite how much he detested the idea.
Finally, after what seemed like hours after Merlin had made the discovery, the last Order member took a seat, and not long afterwards, Kingsley strode in with purpose. He took his seat at the head of the table, a quizzical frown on his brow. He glanced at Merlin.
"My Aurors and I were in the middle of a very serious meeting about how to improve protection over Muggle dwellings when your Patronus arrived," he said to Merlin. "I trust that whatever it was that prompted such an immediate summoning must be serious indeed if it could not wait until tonight's meeting."
"Oh, it is," muttered Ginny. Kingsley ignored her and kept staring at Merlin expectantly. Merlin noticed his hands were clenched on the table in front of him.
"I know where Voldemort is hiding," Merlin announced.
The effect was instantaneous. The room as a whole gasped in shock, incredulity and excitement. A buzzing chattering noise broke out and every face looked alert and eager.
Kingsley held up a hand for silence which immediately fell. He looked at Merlin intensely.
"Are you certain?" he asked. His voice as calm and collected as ever, but Merlin could detect a subtle hint of excitement there.
Merlin nodded. "I am."
More frantic whispers broke out.
"How did you discover it?" Remus asked, all hint of weariness gone from his features.
"I traced the history of the Gaunt family," Merlin explained quickly. "I found a mention of one of their old residences, one that had been passed down from Slytherin himself. I knew that if Voldemort, a man as arrogant and self-assuming as he is, had ever learned of this place he would immediately have sought to set himself up in it. My suspicions were confirmed when the portrait of Salazar Slytherin in Hogwarts told me he had told a young Voldemort where to find it."
"That's impossible," said Draco from a corner, frowning. "The place doesn't exist."
"You knew about it?" Bill frowned. "Why didn't you mention it as a place where You-Know-Who might be hiding?"
"It was a silly myth!" Draco protested as people turned on him. "Some stupid story we used to tell in the Slytherin Common Room. No one really thought it was a real place!"
"Well, it is," said Merlin. "You'd be surprised how many times I've come across something that's supposed to be a myth and turns out to be true. I don't think I've ever come across any myth that didn't have at least some basis in fact. The Slytherin estate is real."
"But won't the place be hidden by a Fidelius Charm?" Neville asked.
Merlin smiled, still clutching on to Fawkes' feathers. "Yes, but Fidelius Charms are Modern Magic, and I'm sure that if I tried I'd be able to break it without too much effort. I'm almost certain it can be broken if I know the general area that it's in."
"But according to the legend," said Draco, "the only person that can find the place is an Heir of Slytherin. There was a silly story about how only a Parselmouth could find it because the snakes would lead them to it or something. You won't be able to break the Fidelius Charm if you can't get near it in the first place!"
"That does pose a significant problem," said Kingsley, frowning.
"You mean we're back to the beginning again?" Fred asked, slumping back in his chair.
"Great," grumbled George. "We know where it is, just not where it is."
Merlin cleared his throat loudly, and everyone turned to stare at him, breaking off their whispered discussions. Merlin smiled again.
"You're all forgetting one thing," he said, keeping them all in his gaze. "I knew Salazar Slytherin personally. He built this estate on the site of an earlier one. I've been there before. I know exactly where it is."
The excitement in the room reignited and people leaned forward to hear his next few words.
"What were you doing in Slytherin's house?" Charlie asked suspiciously.
Merlin frowned. "Salazar wasn't an entirely evil man, you know. He had his good points as well as his bad."
"Salazar?" George said shaking his head. "I can't believe you were on first name terms with him."
"Look," Merlin said, annoyed. "This isn't about any friendship I had with Salazar Slytherin. That's not important."
"So, what did the two of you talk about when he invited you around for dinner?" Fred asked casually.
"He never invited me around for dinner."
"Then how do you know where his house is?"
Merlin sighed. This really wasn't important, but he knew their curiosity must be satiated.
"Because I used to live nearby," he explained. "Big estates like that in those days usually had a village attached, or very close by. I lived in the village. He was the landlord and we his tenants."
"Landlord? You used to pay him taxes?"
"Yes," sighed Merlin.
"What sort of a friend charges his friend money?" Ginny asked frowning.
"We weren't friends back then," said Merlin. "I was the village healer and he lived with his family up in the castle. We had nothing to do with each other. I didn't know him at all."
"What changed?" Hermione asked, looking interested. Merlin had to refrain from rolling his eyes- even in a situation like this she was still pressing for historical details.
"The villagers knew about the Slytherins' magic," Merlin explained. "They didn't really bother about it, and the Slytherins and the villagers were mostly just happy to live and let live."
He sighed heavily. "But then, a girl died from a strange disease. I was unable to treat her. It was something I had never seen before: smallpox, which was then quite rare in that part of the world and often fatal. I left the village after her death to go to another town to consult with the healer there about it. When I returned a couple of weeks later, everything had changed. Several more people had been infected and killed, and the town leaders had stirred up a crowd of people into anger and rebellion. They blamed the Slytherins, saying it was their evil influence that had brought the disease, that the disease was God's way of punishing them for tolerating witchcraft in their midst. When I returned, I discovered that they'd attacked the Slytherin estate in the middle of the night, catching them off guard. They destroyed the house and dragged the family outside without their wands and burned them all at the stake. I arrived back too late to stop them."
Merlin hung his head with sadness as he remembered the blacked pyres with the smell of charred flesh in the air. The family and servants had all suffered cruel and excruciating deaths. Some had been Muggles. Several of them had been mere children. He looked up again to find everyone staring at him with wide eyes. Mrs Weasley had her hand over her mouth in horror.
"But," said Ron, frowning. "How did he survive?"
"He wasn't there at the time," Merlin said quietly. "I saw him arrive back. He'd been absent for months, off with Godric and the others trying to get their school started. He'd returned at the first murmurings of trouble at home. In those days, Apparition wasn't as refined and perfected as it is now. It was safer to ride, and by the time he'd gotten back … "
He sighed again, dragging up yet more unpleasant memories. "I saw him ride up to the gates, and the look on his face as he saw what had happened to his family … well, Voldemort's anger's got nothing on his. He lashed out and tried desperately to save his family, despite the fact they were already dead. He killed the Muggles that were there, brutally. I've never seen anyone so torn up by anguish, pain and hatred. He was like a man possessed."
"He turned to the village then, and tried to attack it, to burn it down as well. He didn't care if he killed innocents or not, he was beyond reason at that point. That was when I noticed."
"Noticed what?" Ginny asked in a hushed voice. Everyone was hanging on his every word.
"That his magic was different," Merlin explained. "He was using a wand, and using Modern spells, but there was … something different about it. I sensed the Old Religion within him. Very faint, but it was there. He had that magic; there was a combination of the Old and the New there, even if he didn't know it himself."
"I stopped him from killing the villagers. I revealed myself to him, and stopped him from destroying the village and himself at the same time. He had such hatred in his eyes when he looked at me. He thought I had betrayed my own kind. But I couldn't let him kill innocent people, the ones who'd had nothing to do with the massacre of his family. It didn't do much good though. The ones who didn't die from smallpox fled the village anyway and never returned."
"Salazar left after he realised that I was there to protect the villagers. I thought about leaving as well, but something about him intrigued me. So I followed him back to Hogwarts, which was just half built at the time. I lived in Hogsmeade and watched from a distance and noticed the incredible power that the castle's four residents wielded. I knew that their magic was an amalgamation of the Old and New, and I realised then that I had to step in and help them, guide them."
"Salazar wasn't too happy when he saw me again. He tried to kill me actually. He thought I had helped the Muggles massacre his family. The other Founders didn't like me either at first. But then Fawkes intervened."
Merlin smiled down at the phoenix in his lap. "He was Godric's bird back then. And just like he did this time around, he flew over to me and convinced the others that I was to be trusted. Salazar didn't take too kindly to that at first, but after a while, after I explained to him my reasons and helped him come to terms with his loss, he came to trust me just as much as the others did. I never managed to get rid of his hatred of Muggles and suspicion of Muggle-Borns entirely though."
Merlin frowned. "Now will that satisfy you? How I know where Salazar lived isn't really important. Just know that after he left Hogwarts he went back to his old home and rebuilt it. And I remember where."
The room was silent. Everyone was exchanging looks that were a mixture of distress and eagerness.
"I never realised he'd suffered like that," Tonks said, shaking her head. "It explains quite a bit."
"Yes, well," said Merlin. "I could tell you dozens more things about Salazar and how he's really not as bad as history paints him, but I don't have time right now."
"You're right," said Kingsley. "We need to formulate a plan of action. We cannot rush into anything. A full-on assault of the place is at present unfeasible. We are not ready. We must marshal our forces and prepare. This must be conducted under absolute secrecy. We must not give anything away; the enemy cannot know that we've discovered anything. We must continue to act the way we have been doing. Revealing this publicly by design or by accident could be disastrous. Let Voldemort keep thinking he is safe. When we are ready, when we have a plan, we will attack."
Merlin nodded. "I agree completely. As much as I hate to admit it, we have to take our time about this. We have to be careful. They could move their base easily if they knew they'd been discovered. We have to plan everything down to the very last detail."
"Wait!" said Harry, speaking for the first time, having remained uncharacteristically quiet. "You mean to tell me we're just going to sit here and talk when we know exactly where he's hiding?"
Merlin groaned inwardly. He could have guessed this would happen.
"Harry," he said soothingly. "The Order needs time to prepare. We can't rush anything. The situation is far too delicate."
Harry just looked at him. "This is our chance! We have to do something!"
"We will, Harry," said Kingsley. "But we cannot just now."
"But he could move again!" Harry protested. "We have to act before something goes wrong!"
"Harry, if we act now something will go wrong!" Merlin said. "Storming in there without proper preparation is akin to suicide. Did you immediately run off to the Ministry or Gringotts when you knew where the Horcruxes were, or did you wait and plan? We've got a better chance at success if we wait. A better chance that more of us will survive! Or do you want their deaths on your conscience? Have you learned nothing from the Forbidden Forest?"
Harry flinched, and Merlin inwardly berated himself. That had been a low blow.
"Harry," Merlin said, more gently. "You're not ready. We're not ready."
"I don't want to waste any more time!" Harry said, his hands shaking. "What about that girl today? How many more people are going to die before we're ready?"
Merlin felt this was a very good point, but he didn't let this show on his face. He had to look at the bigger picture.
"If we try and fail," he said slowly, "we'll never have another chance. We'll be in a worse situation than we are now. It's a risk we have to take. Better to wait and gather our full strength than let ourselves be easily crushed and end all hope of future resistance."
Harry scowled, but he didn't say anything further. He stared resolutely down at the table in front of him. Ginny watched him worriedly.
"What should we do, Kingsley?" Mr Weasley asked him, his face grim. "What's our next move?"
Kingsley glanced at Merlin, but when he saw that nothing was forthcoming he spoke.
"Myself, Arthur, Tonks and the rest of you at the Ministry will help me to prepare the Aurors and formulate a plan of attack in absolute secrecy. Nothing should be seen to be amiss at the Ministry. Remus, you coordinate the other Order members and our allies and do likewise, you and Tonks can liaise and join the two forces. Minerva, I want you to prepare Hogwarts. Arrange extra security and get the castle ready in case another all-out battle is coming. Get the teachers on board and ready to defend the students if need be. Merlin-"
Here he paused, and looked uncertain. "I don't presume to give you orders," he said. "But you should make yourself useful where you see fit. You're probably more accustomed to this sort of thing than any of us. We'll be grateful of your expertise in any capacity."
Merlin nodded brusquely. He was already thinking back to the many, many castles he and Arthur had stormed in the past and managed to infiltrate trying to remember anything that might be useful. It had been an age since he had done something like this. An age since he had actively sought a fight with Morgana on her own ground. He had to be careful.
Kingsley continued issuing more orders but Merlin barely listened further than to note whether they were of any good. He was too lost in thought. How would he accomplish this? He felt an exhilaration building inside of him. He was taking the fight to Morgana. Soon, he would fight her, and the fate of the Old Religion and this modern age would be decided. He could finally be rid of her, or rid of his own lingering immortality.
Finally.
"Where is this place?" Bill asked suddenly. He looked around at the table. Everyone looked blank. He looked at Merlin. "You say you know where this place is? Then where? What part of the country?"
Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He shook his head.
"I don't think I should say."
Shouts of protest rang out.
"Why not? Tonks asked. "Don't we have a right to know?"
"Yes," said Merlin. "But like Kingsley said, this has to be absolutely secret. I don't want to risk anyone else finding out, least of all Morgana. I think it's wisest for me to keep that information to myself for now."
Everyone looked disappointed but nodded their agreement. Harry however, frowned.
"You sure it's not so that I don't go running off there on my own?" he asked almost accusingly.
Merlin fixed him with a beady stare. "Partly," he admitted. "But it's my decision. I think it's best that as few people know as possible."
Harry's frown deepened.
"What about us?" Neville asked of Kingsley suddenly, interrupting anything Harry had been about to say.
"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked.
"The DA!" Neville said, eagerly. "What can we do?"
Kingsley froze for a second, before exchanging glances with Remus and Mr Weasley.
"I don't think it's best to get them involved-"
"Why not?" Ginny objected fiercely. "We've been teaching them how to defend themselves! They've got as much right to help defend the world they love as all of you! We need as much help as we can get."
"I don't think we should be involving children," said McGonagall. "The DA was only ever meant to help the children defend themselves if caught in a dangerous situation, not to actively seek them out."
"But-"
"They're too young," said Mrs Weasley firmly. "This is war, not some classroom duel."
"And I was too young when I got the Philosopher's Stone!" objected Harry. "And when I killed the Basilisk, fought those Dementors, competed in the Triwizard, fought at the Ministry and went after all those Horcruxes! But I did it anyway because I knew I had to, that it was my duty to the people I care about."
"And you suffered for it," Mrs Weasley retorted. "I don't want any other children scarred the way you've been, Harry dear."
"They'll be scarred anyway," said Harry. "This war is going on everywhere, not just outside of the school. They won't be protected from it just by not allowing them to fight."
"We deserve the chance to help," Luna said simply, smiling serenely.
Kingsley looked from Harry to Mrs Weasley, a frown on his brow. He looked to Merlin.
"What do you think?"
Merlin looked at them all, his face expressionless as he thought it over.
"Children should be children, not warriors in battle," he said. "But," he began, after seeing Harry's outraged expression, "that is no longer an option that is available to us. They are involved now whether we wish it or not. They deserve the right to do what they can to help. I know from experience. I fought in many battles and killed many people when I was not much older than the students in the DA are now. It is not a fate I would wish on anyone, but it is necessary."
Mrs Weasley looked furious and Merlin tried to calm her.
"This is not an ideal world we are living in," he said sadly. "Unfortunately, we must do things that would normally be abhorrent. This is one of those things. I would recommend however," he said, looking at Kingsley and Harry, "that no student below sixth year be allowed to fight in actual battle. Aside from the fact that they're the ones with the greatest experience, I wish to spare the rest from as much horror as I can. I know what you've done over the years, Harry, but not everyone is as strong, as able or as hardy as you are. If we can save them, than we will."
Harry and Kingsley both thought for a moment, and then nodded, Harry looked slightly appeased.
"Well, Merlin has spoken," said Fred dramatically. His mother glared at him.
"I think we've gone over as much as we can today," said Kingsley, standing up. "I recommend we all depart to work on our strategy. We'll have meetings here every night to discuss the way forward. Hopefully, we won't have to wait too long before we can finally end this all. Voldemort will be defeated before the end of the month!"
There were a few strangled cheers, but no one looked particularly optimistic, they had had an expression of grim acceptance on their faces.
As soon as Kingsley left the room, Harry stood up immediately. Without speaking to anyone, he strode purposefully across the room and out through the door and thundered up the stairs. Merlin watched him go in concern.
They were so close now to ending everything. What was going through his mind now?
Harry had raced up the staircase straight out of the meeting. A furious rushing sound was in his ears and he was literally shaking in anticipation.
They knew where he was.
He emerged into the drawing room and began pacing up and down furiously trying to calm himself. His heart was pounding loudly.
He wanted nothing more than to just do something. Every fibre of his being was urging him to race out of here and force Merlin to tell him where to go so he could finally end this all. The thought of that Ravenclaw girl fueled his eagerness. He wasn't going to let that happen to anyone else.
But he knew it was futile. Even if Merlin told him where to go, he'd never be able to break through the Fidelius Charm on his own. He wouldn't stand a chance against any of them by himself. He was trapped where he was for the time being. There was nothing he could do.
He wanted to scream in frustration. Merlin knew! He knew! And still they were sitting here talking!
He was desperate to just end this all. To finally stop his fighting, to end the nightmare he'd been in since he was eleven years old and found out what really happened to his parents. Voldemort had always been there. Always shadowing his every footstep. Looming over his life like some great menace. It was his fault he'd never had the love of his parents, his fault that the people who cared about him ended up dead, the reason he couldn't be with Ginny …
The thought that they were so close now exhilarated him, yet frightened him at the same time. What if he failed? What then? So much depended on him! In no time at all it seemed he would be meeting his destiny. And what was going to happen, he had no idea.
While he was pacing, the door opened slightly, and Merlin slipped in and watched Harry silently, no expression on his face.
Harry ignored him. How could he look so calm? How could he stand there so composed? Didn't he understand what this meant to him?
"Harry."
Despite himself, Harry wheeled around to face him.
"I'm not interested, Merlin," he said. "I don't want to hear your words of wisdom. You can't understand what this means."
"Can't I?" Merlin asked, a sad smile on his lips. "I think I understand better than you think."
"How can you?" Harry retorted angrily. "All my life has been spent leading up to this moment! I've been marked for this ever since I was one year old. I've never had a choice, never the chance to just be normal. All my life I've been a pawn in someone else's game, Dumbledore's, Voldemort's, yours! It's like this great big crushing destiny that I can't escape. Literally millions of people are depending on me, relying on me to make the right choices, to save them all. Their lives are in my hands. If I fail … I don't think I can wait until the Order is ready. I have to finish this."
He stormed over to the cupboard in the corner of the room, and wrenched out Excalibur which lay there. He pulled the coverings from it and let his eyes slide along the length of the magnificent blade.
He slashed it through the air without much purpose, relishing the way the lamplight reflected off the blade and shone in the darkened room. He swiped at an invisible enemy again with as much force as he could muster. He took the sword in both hands and sliced it through the air again and jabbed it forward as though skewering someone. He imagined driving the blade through Voldemort's chest, of seeing the blood spilling from the wound, the look in his eyes when he realised that he wasn't mortal, that Harry had just killed him. He imagined the joy he would feel as Voldemort fell to his feet lifeless, and the world was saved.
He slashed the sword through the air again and again, imagining himself hitting as many parts of Voldemort's body as he could. He went on for so long that his arms began to ache, but Harry didn't stop, instead, the weariness seemed to drive him on. He felt sweat begin beading on his forehead and run over his scar. He had to do this. Voldemort would die. Harry had to do this.
The entire time, Merlin stood by the doorway, watching Harry with a strange expression on his face. He made no move to stop him.
Eventually Harry lowered his arms, and the sword lay loosely in his right hand. The adrenaline still pumped through his veins and he shook.
Now, Merlin moved.
He slowly walked over to where Harry was. He placed his hand over the one Harry had the sword in.
"This is how you hold it," he said, demonstrating, moving Harry's fingers and his hand into the proper position. "You'll never get anywhere like that."
He moved Harry's other hand onto the hilt. "This is a defensive stance," he said showing him. "Adopt this whenever you're not attacking. Move like this when you are. Don't be so rigid. Your movements have to be fluid. Don't attack so violently, you'll wear yourself out. Pace yourself, conserve your energy, be nimble, not brutal. Feel the sword as if it's an extension of your own arm, not a weapon."
Merlin moved to in front of Harry and watched him silently. Harry lowered the sword which he just realised had been pointed at Merlin.
"I thought you said you were always hopeless with a sword?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly a whole lot quieter after the shouting he'd done earlier.
Merlin smiled. "I was. But I knew enough to get by. That's all you'll need to know. You won't have to use this sword."
Harry frowned. "Then how am I supposed to defeat him?"
"Not like this, Harry," Merlin said, shaking his head slightly. "Not out of revenge, or hatred, or anger. That'll destroy you, like killing those Muggle villagers would have destroyed Salazar. Don't attack in anger. You're going to fight Voldemort because you need to, not because you want to. The minute someone wants to fight, is the minute they lose who they are. Sometimes forever."
Harry just stared blankly at him, trying to make him out. His anger had evaporated. Merlin looked directly at Harry, and Harry saw the ancient man in his eyes.
"You're not meant for a sword, Harry," he said softly. "I am. I've been fighting all my life. In one way or another."
Harry frowned. Merlin sighed and looked down.
"I understand better than anyone what you're feeling, Harry," he said. "I know what it's like to have such a crushing destiny. All my childhood I spent living in fear, thinking I was a monster, that there was something wrong with me, all the while my mother insisting that I was meant for better things. When I was about the same age as you are now I discovered my destiny. I was told that it was my destiny to protect the Once and Future King, that he and I would unite the Five Kingdoms and create Albion, a land of peace and prosperity and restore magic to the realm. Imagine how I felt then, Harry. A simple peasant boy who's spent his entire life hiding in the shadows to have such a destiny thrust upon him. And I had no idea how to accomplish it, or even if I wanted to. How was I supposed to bring magic back when I would get my head chopped off for even suggesting it? I was afraid, Harry. I lived in constant fear, constant pain as I struggled with fulfilling my destiny while every day I continued hurting the ones I loved."
Merlin looked back up at him and fixed him with an intense stare. "I had that destiny then, and I have a new one now, one that looks just as impossible to fulfill as that one did to me then. I know exactly what's it like to feel like your entire life is mapped out for you. I know what it's like to have so many people depend on you. How could I not? We are united in this, Harry."
"I'll repeat what Kilgharrah said to me once when I was much younger: 'None of us can choose our destiny, and none of us can escape it.' That's as true now as it was all those years ago. It's unfair, of course it is. Neither of us deserved to have such crushing destinies given to us when we were so young. But we didn't have a choice. What we have to do, Harry, is accept it. The Old Religion has chosen both of us for a reason. We have to have faith in that reason, Harry. We are the only ones who can do it. We have to know deep down that we can do this. Do you trust me?"
Harry blinked rapidly, trying to control the raging emotions within him. He nodded, unable to speak.
Merlin smiled at him. "Good."
He made to leave, but Harry, called out to him suddenly.
"But what am I supposed to do now?" he asked, and was shocked to hear how desperate he sounded.
Merlin turned.
"Go back to school, Harry," he said calmly. "Keep up the appearance of normality. Get ready. Prepare the DA. We will be facing this danger, our destiny, sooner than you think. You must have faith in yourself. Don't feel that you're alone, Harry. Even if you can't see that the others are in this as much as you are, know that I am. I know, Harry, believe me, I know."
He left.
Harry stood there, breathing heavily, feeling at a complete loss. He looked down at Excalibur in his hand.
He covered up the shining blade and placed it carefully back in the cupboard. He closed the door and stood looking at it for a few moments.
Merlin was right. His destiny was approaching, and he had to be ready to face it. Like Hagrid had said once: "What's comin' will come, and we'll be ready for it when it does."
He would be ready. He and Merlin, they'd do it together. They'd end this.
Merlin strolled casually through the Muggle town trying not to look suspicious. Muggles roamed here and there on the busy main street greeting each other without a care in the world. Merlin watched them carefully; none of them seemed to comprehend the danger that was so close to him.
He found himself standing on a small bridge over a tiny stream. On the opposite banks there lay an ancient ruined church and some other buildings, weeds growing up between the massive stones. They lay there, sad and silent.
This was all that remained of the ancient town that Merlin had once lived in. The place had been abandoned after the slaughter of the Slytherins but eventually the area had been repopulated after the Norman conquest and a new town had sprung up around the ruins. At least, that was what the little blue tourist plaque had told him.
He hadn't known the place had been settled in again; he'd always assumed it had lain empty after those fateful events all those years ago. He was wrong.
He sighed and turned and looked back down the main street, a heaviness growing in his heart. So much had changed since then. The very streets these people were walking on so casually had once ran with blood and mobs of madmen with flaming torches. He wondered how many of them knew their town's grisly past.
His eyes drifted unconsciously to approximately the spot where his old house had once stood, now a greengrocer's shop. It was all just one long cycle. The Old Religion had brought him here one thousand years ago so that he would meet Salazar Slytherin, and now it had brought him back again, to defeat Salazar's descendent, who was spouting off as much hatred and prejudice as the Muggles living here had once also done. The Old Religion must appreciate the dramatic irony. Merlin certainly did not.
He looked beyond the street and saw what he'd come here for. A massive hill looming over the town, artificially created and lined with earthen ramparts as many elite settlements had in those days. When Merlin had last stood on this spot, the Slytherin castle had stood on top of that hill, dominating the landscape. Now it was gone.
The entire top of the hill was empty. It was flat, and looked to Merlin as if it was covered in green fields and hedges. But he knew that was a misconception.
That was where Voldemort and Morgana were.
His hands clenched into fists as he thought about it. They were there, just up on that hill, so close, yet he could do nothing.
He could see no sign of any building on the hill but it didn't surprise him. The Fidelius Charm was doing its work well, and any other enchantments the Gaunts had placed on it centuries earlier were concealing it from view. But Merlin knew it was there. He knew it, even if he couldn't see it.
The village was about three miles away from the castle, but Merlin didn't dare get any closer. He could feel the magic radiating from it even from this distance. He knew that if he got any closer either Morgana or Voldemort would sense him. He couldn't risk that.
He kicked a stray can in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to just head up there right now and …
He stopped himself from getting carried away. This was a scouting mission. He was here to gather information, not recklessly attack the place. The others were counting on him.
With great effort, he forced himself to once again stroll casually through the town. He looked at the hill from every angle, assessing it, wondering how best to try and infiltrate it.
Muggles stared at him curiously as he stood in the street seemingly gazing intently at nothing. Merlin paid them no heed.
He couldn't quite comprehend how these Muggles had managed to survive living in the shadow of the residence of such an evil place unscathed. None of them knew what danger lurked so close by.
They would have to leave, Merlin decided. Once he broke the enchantments the castle would be there for everyone to see. It would cause panic, and the Muggles would be in danger as the Death Eaters would no longer have to remain inconspicuous. He'd have to get Kingsley to arrange that somehow. He didn't want to risk their lives.
After another hour or so of reconnaissance, Merlin, with great effort, left the small town and reappeared in Grimmauld Place.
"Well?" Ron demanded of him immediately, as soon as Merlin had fully rematerialised in the drawing room in the midst of half the Order.
"They're there," he said, sinking into a chair. "I could feel their presence."
"Your hunch was right then?"
Merlin nodded. "Salazar's castle was completely invisible, but I could tell it was there hidden out of sight. The enchantments are strong, Morgana's enhanced them, but I don't believe I'll have much difficulty breaking them. The real issue is how we're to get in."
"What do you mean?" Remus asked.
"It's heavily defended," Merlin explained. "Settlements like that often were in those days. It's on a steep hill and practically unassailable, which was of course the entire point of building it. Even with magic, it'll be hard to gain access."
Kingsley nodded. "We'll have to discuss this in greater detail. Draw me up some plans of the immediate area and what you remember of the original building. We'll have to proceed carefully."
Merlin agreed. "There's one other issue however," he said. "The town I used to live in, it's been resettled. About five thousand people now live within sight of the place. If there's to be an all-out confrontation they'll have to be evacuated."
Kingsley sighed. "That'll be difficult, but I'm sure I'll manage something."
"What town is it?" Harry asked, trying to sound casual. Merlin smiled wryly.
"You're not getting it out of me that easily, Harry. I'm not telling anyone where the place is until absolutely necessary. Kingsley will have to be an exception however if he's to get this place emptied."
Kingsley smiled. "I'll pull some strings with the Muggle Prime Minister."
Harry scowled and Ron shrugged. "It was worth a go, mate."
Harry avoided Merlin's gaze. Merlin could tell he was still railing against Merlin's insistence that the place remain secret. Merlin had sneaked off early on Sunday morning to go back to the place; he'd gone on a long roundabout route just in case Harry or one of the others tried to follow him.
Harry and the others were heading back to school tomorrow and Merlin could tell none of them were particularly thrilled about it, even less so than they'd been back in the summer. Merlin silently urged them all to be patient. He could tell the final moment was looming closer and closer, and that this last little while they spent at Hogwarts would prove vital in determining the outcome.
Just be patient, Harry. Just a little longer.
"Where did Slytherin live?" Ron asked Hermione almost the exact moment they'd entered the Common Room on Sunday evening. "Where?"
"I don't know!" Hermione said frowning. "I don't know everything, you know!"
"Yes you do!"
Hermione's frown deepened. "Stop it, Ron. You heard Merlin: we can't go after him yet. We're not ready."
Ron shook his head. "I know that, but I just want to know where he is!"
"What difference will that make?"
"Because it'll make it easier," said Harry in a low voice, sinking into an armchair beside the fire with the others- Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville. "Knowing where he is, it'll make it easier for me to bide my time if I can just know."
"It won't make any difference, Harry," said Hermione. "You can't do anything yet."
"I know," said Harry sighing. He did know, but it was still driving him crazy. Didn't Hermione understand? Didn't Merlin?
"Come on, Hermione," urged Ron. "You must know something about Slytherin!"
She frowned. "Actually, there's not much written about the personal lives of the Founders. I'm honestly not sure."
She thought for a moment. "Do you remember that song the Sorting Hat sang? You know how it always mentions things about the Founders? Didn't it once say where each of them had come from?"
Harry had to smile. "You remember each of the Sorting Hat's songs?"
She shrugged. "I liked them." She stood up and started pacing. "Let me think …"
"He came from a fen," said Neville suddenly, blushing as everyone turned to stare at him. "I remember the songs too … anyway, it said Slytherin was from a fen."
Hermione grinned. "Well, that narrows it down. The fens are in Eastern England. That must be where his home was!"
"Eastern England?" Ron asked sceptically. "That really narrows it down. We must have something more to go on than that!"
But Hermione shook her head. "I can't think of anything. I'll just have to go to the-"
"Library," Harry and Ron echoed in unison. Ron frowned. "You honestly think there'll be anything there? Didn't Malfoy say that the place was hidden and only a Parselmouth could find it?"
"That was after the Gaunt's spells," said Hermione, still pacing. "They stopped people finding it, but didn't erase its location, otherwise Merlin wouldn't be able to remember where it was. If the location was written down beforehand …"
"None of this makes any sense," Ron said frowning.
"I'll check Hufflepuff's book," said Harry. "She and him were obviously friends, she must have written something about him in there that could be useful."
Hermione and Ron nodded their assent, but Ginny looked unconvinced.
"I don't think we should do this," she said, ignoring the incredulous glances she was receiving. "Merlin didn't want us to know where it was. I think we should trust him."
Harry stared at her. "I think we have the right to know where he is!"
Ginny scowled at him, looking fierce. "Merlin has his reasons. I don't think we should go behind his back like this."
"Since when have you been so defensive of him?" Harry asked. "I thought you'd be all for taking some action!"
"Yeah, well I've changed!" she said. "When you were taken by Morgana I was all for ripping apart the entire country in order to find you but Merlin stopped me. I hated him for not letting me go out after you. I thought he was wasting time and that he didn't care. But he was right. Rushing out after you would have got loads of us killed, Merlin's plan worked perfectly. I trust him, Harry! Why don't you?"
She leapt up from her seat and stormed away and up the girl's staircase leaving an awkward silence behind her.
Harry woke up the next day trying not to think of his fight with Ginny. She was right, he hated to admit; he should trust him.
He sighed and closed his eyes and leaned further into his pillow. It seemed like such an age ago now that Harry hadn't even known of Merlin's true identity. He'd trusted him implicitly then, even when he was still just Martin Emrys, when he knew he was being lied to. There was nothing different about it now.
He pushed himself up and started getting dressed. He just couldn't help what he was feeling. It was a constant anticipation that seemed to hum through his veins. He was waiting on the edge of something he couldn't escape. He just wanted it over with as soon as possible. The waiting was the worst part.
He'd scoured Hufflepuff's book well into the night but hadn't come up with anything useful. He hadn't really expected to; according to Merlin, Slytherin had built the house after leaving Hogwarts. She didn't mention anything about their lives previous to the school.
He picked up the book once more and flicked through it absentmindedly, before stopping at random. 'Using the magic of the Old Religion,' he read, 'is rather like taming an unruly animal. Like with a horse, or a hippogriff, one must always be on alert and in control of one's emotions. Only then can success be achieved.'
He sighed and pushed the book away. Easier said than done.
It was still early and not time for lessons yet, so Harry made his way silently out of the dormitory and out through the portrait hole, determined to clear his head.
He strolled through the corridors at a bit of a loss, feeling hollow. He thought wildly about going to McGonagall's office to question Slytherin's portrait, but though that might be courting disaster if McGonagall caught him.
He leaned against a wall and breathed in deeply. He lifted his wand from the pocket and pointed it directly in front of him.
"Byrne frīcian," he muttered, and he felt his eyes turn golden. The torch in the bracket in front of him burned fiercely into life. The flames grew larger and larger and fiery creatures danced in the air as sparks and tendrils of flame extended from the wall. The figures swam through the air leaving tiny trails of smoke with them and crisscrossed in the corridor, burning so brightly it made his eyes hurt.
Harry watched them sadly. Merlin was right, this magic was amazing. He loved the feeling of the magic flowing through him like this. It was exhilarating. But what use would it possibly be in the long run. What could he really do in the end?
"Well, that's interesting."
Harry jumped as a hoarse voice sounded right by his side and turned to see the Bloody Baron floating there next to him, leering at him in a rather sinister way. The fire creatures vanished.
"I don't know what you're-"
"Don't act the fool, Mr Potter," the Baron drawled. "I know what that was. I saw the Founders use it many a time."
Harry blinked. "You know about Old Magic?"
"Of course," the Baron said rather condescendingly. "I've known Merlin for the last thousand years after all."
Harry stood up properly and leaned away from the ghost, slightly unnerved by his proximity.
"Will you tell anyone?"
"Why would I do that?" the Baron asked looking genuinely confused. "I've kept Merlin's secret for centuries and told no one of the Founder's unusual abilities. It benefits me in no way."
Harry scowled. "Typical Slytherin. Only concerned about what you'll get out of it."
The Baron's eyes flashed and Harry immediately regretted his words.
"I don't know why you're so concerned with keeping it a secret," the Baron continued, his voice betraying a subtle anger. "I thought the Old Religion was public knowledge now that Merlin has finally revealed himself?"
"It is," said Harry. "But we don't want everyone know I'm learning it. It's best if no one knows."
"Even if your enemy knows?"
Harry scowled again. "What do you want?"
The Baron raised his eyebrows. "Absolutely nothing."
"Well then, can you leave me alone?" Harry said, wishing the conversation would just end. He wasn't in the mood for this.
The Baron said nothing and started drifting off down the corridor looking thoroughly unconcerned.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Encountering the Bloody Baron was always thoroughly unpleasant. Just the sight of all that blood on his robes was enough to …
The blood. It had belonged to …
Harry gasped as he realised something. He ran down the corridor after the silvery figure. "Hey, wait!"
The Bloody Baron came to a halt several inches above the ground and looked back around at Harry frowning.
"What?" he asked rudely.
"You knew the Founders!" Harry said, grinning.
The Baron nodded, looking at Harry as though he was insane. "Yes. I was among the first students of Hogwarts. I was taught by the Founders themselves."
"And afterwards," Harry said, rushing his words. "You wanted to marry Ravenclaw's daughter didn't you?"
The Baron's jaw tightened and there was an aura of danger emanating from him.
"Helena told you then? Unusual. She prefers to keep it quiet. As do I as a matter of fact."
"But you were close to the Founders?" Harry asked, waving this away. He wasn't interested in discussing Helena Ravenclaw with her murderer. "Close enough to have Ravenclaw send you to bring her daughter back to her?"
"What of it?" the Baron asked, looking menacing.
"You must have known Slytherin well as well," Harry said. "He must have chosen you to be in his House."
"Yes," the Baron said looking impatient.
"Where did he live?"
The Baron frowned. "Where did he live? What sort of a question is that? He lived here in the castle!"
"No," said Harry impatiently. "I mean after he left Hogwarts. Where did he live then?"
The Baron's face took on a look of sudden comprehension.
"Ah," he said. "You're referring to the old Slytherin estate? Do you honestly think you're the first student to come asking about that?"
"Just tell me where it is," Harry said, his heart beating faster. "It's really important."
The Baron smiled, but this just made him look more sinister. "I've never been there," he said casually. "I lived in Hogsmeade after I left Hogwarts in order to remain close to Helena. I had no dealings with Lord Salazar after he left the school."
"But you must know where it is!"
"I do," the Baron said, his smile widening. "The Slytherin estate was very famous in its day."
"So tell me!" Harry said, frustrated. He didn't know why he was getting worked up about it. He just had to know. Why, he wasn't sure.
The Baron smirked. "Why don't you ask Merlin? He was also friendly with Lord Salazar. I'm sure he knows where it is."
"He does," said Harry, "but he won't tell us."
The Baron smiled again. "He won't? Well in that case … neither will I."
"What?" Harry asked furiously. "All of that and you're not going to tell me? Why?"
"Because, Mr Potter," the Baron said as though he were talking to a child. "Merlin is the greatest sorcerer who has ever lived and someone I have come to know very well over the years, even if he's never liked me much. If he won't tell you, there must be a good reason. I will hold to that."
With another smirk, the Baron turned and drifted off away again. Harry kicked the wall in frustration.
He sighed and sank to the floor defeated. He was right. The Baron, and Ginny they were right. He should trust Merlin.
There was no point to what he was trying to accomplish. He had to be patient. As hard as that may be.
He closed his eyes and began the meditation technique Merlin had taught him. He sensed the magic of the Old Religion within him, he felt it rushing throughout his body in a powerful torrent; he felt it simmering just beneath his skin ready to be called forth.
He opened his eyes again. He would be ready.
"So," said Fred Weasley to Merlin on Tuesday evening in Grimmauld Place. "What was old Slytherin really like then?"
Merlin smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Well now, that's a question."
He, Fred, George, Draco and Remus were all sitting in the kitchen, Remus just having given Merlin a status report on their plans. Things were slowly but surely coming together. Kingsley was gathering as many witches and wizards together that he trusted to prepare for their eventual attack on Slytherin's house. Merlin had been trusted with the attack plan itself, but everyone was eager to get going and the Order was trying desperately to keep everyone quiet about their plans.
"Salazar," Merlin mused. "He was … well, I suppose we were friends. I wasn't as close to him as I was to the others though."
"Well, considering the way the two of you met …" Remus said, but Merlin shook his head.
"No, it wasn't because of that. He was just always more … reserved than the others. Godric and Helga were so open and cheerful all the time, and even Rowena who was more serious had a mischievous streak to her, when she felt like showing it. But Salazar, he was quieter, and not as sociable. We got on well and I enjoyed his company, but he was always more of an outsider, if you know what I mean. He and Godric had been friends since childhood, and it was a strange sort of friendship. Salazar just never seemed to fit in as well."
"I know you keep saying that Slytherin wasn't as bad as everyone says he was," said George slowly, "and I get that you knew him better than any of us. But I just can't understand how you could be friends with someone who hated Muggle-Borns and tried to kill them."
"He didn't," sighed Merlin, resigning himself to explaining Salazar's true motives again; he'd already had to tell Harry and the others before. "He hated Muggles, not Muggle-Borns."
"But-" Fred began, looking confused.
"He hated Muggles because of the evil that they did," Merlin said, interrupting. "He can hardly be blamed for that- in those days it did seem that there were more evil Muggles than good ones. But he didn't hate Muggle-Borns, he didn't see them as inferior. They had magic, and he didn't think them any less worthy."
Everyone just looked at him incredulously, and Merlin sighed again.
"He didn't trust Muggle-Borns," he said. "Some of them were terrified of their own magic, and believed that they were possessed by the Devil. Some of them betrayed their fellow wizards because they thought that by doing it they'd be releasing themselves from the evil within. It happened pretty often, and Salazar didn't want Muggle-Borns in the school because of it."
"These Muggle-Borns were just so afraid," Merlin said ruefully. "They didn't know what they had was magic, they just saw it as evil. That was one of the main reasons the Founders wanted to build a school; to show them that magic wasn't evil, and that they weren't alone and didn't have to be afraid. Some of the time, these Muggle-Borns were thrown out of their homes and left to fend for themselves as soon as they started showing signs of magic, at least, if they weren't killed for it. Helga started a campaign to rescue them; some of them were only about seven. She brought them all to Hogsmeade, which was being built around the same time as the castle as a safe haven. She let them live there with wizarding families until they were old enough to come to the school. Salazar didn't mind those Muggle-Borns- they had no loyalty to Muggles. But the ones who still lived with their families, even the families who didn't hate magic, he didn't trust. He was never cruel to them, just more suspicious."
"Helena- that is, the Grey Lady- told me that after I left Hogwarts, Salazar grew slowly more and more paranoid about Muggle-Borns, something that had already begun just before I left. At that point, he was adamant that they couldn't be trusted and would betray the school. So that's apparently why he built the Chamber; it was just supposed to be a warning to Muggle-Borns of what would happen to them if they betrayed Hogwarts, and to put them off coming. Of course, the others were horrified and asked him to leave. They hushed the whole thing up, obviously not too well, as the entire world believed that he left because he thought Muggle-Borns were scum. He never wanted them killed, he just didn't want them in the school."
Remus blinked a couple of times, looking astonished. "Well, that's … that's … illuminating."
"He really didn't hate Muggle-Borns?" Draco asked him, looking curious.
"No," said Merlin, shaking his head. "And from what his portrait in McGonagall's office tells me, he hates the fact that he's gotten a reputation as a Pure-Blood supremacist."
"But he still hated Muggles?" Fred asked him.
"Yes," said Merlin heavily. "I tried to convince him otherwise many times. But he was too fixed in his ways. He would always hate them, hate them because of what they'd done. But he never thought they were inferior because of their blood. It was because of their beliefs. Because of what they did."
"This is making my head hurt," said George, rubbing his forehead. "I'm not sure whether or not to think he was a good guy or a bad guy!"
Merlin mused for a moment. "Neither am I," he said finally. "He was a riddle. We shared some good times, but on the whole, I think he was just a very confused, misguided and tortured man. He made some bad decisions. But he wasn't all bad; remember, if it hadn't been for him, Hogwarts would never have been founded."
"Yeah, tell that to Moaning Myrtle," Fred whispered to George.
"This isn't important," Merlin said. "Salazar is long dead."
He didn't want to carry this conversation on any longer. He missed the Founders, and still felt a little bit guilty that he had left Hogwarts right when Salazar's paranoia had begun to grow. The awful heart-wrenching feeling he had gotten when he had heard what had happened in his absence remained with him to this day. He had been haunted for years by the choices Salazar had made. It was partly because of Salazar's departure (and Merlin's several years earlier) that Helena had become so estranged from her mother, feeling abandoned by everyone she loved, since Rowena's grief was also greatly affecting her. It had ended with the tragic circumstances of Helena's murder and Rowena's succumb to her grief. With the departure of two of the Founders, the Wizards' Council, through the Board of Governors, had muscled in to the running of the school, and after Godric and Helga had died it had remained a profound influence on the school, controlling it thoroughly until Dumbledore's reign, something the Founders had always tried to prevent. And, Fred was right, Salazar's decision had also led indirectly to the death of Moaning Myrtle.
Though, Merlin reminded himself, if Salazar hadn't built the chamber, Godric's sword would never have become imbued with Basilisk venom that could be used to destroy Horcruxes. The Old Religion was a funny thing. Perhaps it had been supposed to happen, even though many awful things would occur as a result. It and it alone could see the wider picture.
In any case, Merlin didn't like to think about Salazar's decisions, rather, liked to focus on the fun memories, such as the time with the dragon down by the lake. He didn't want to think of Salazar's downward spiral. It reminded him too much of the circumstances of Morgana's fall into evil.
A bad feeling grew in his stomach as he thought of her. His body shook with anticipation as he thought of the fact that he would soon be able to face her again, that he would soon be able to end everything. He thought of Excalibur upstairs in the cupboard and relished the thought of driving it through her and finally finishing what he should have done all those years ago. She'd never hurt anyone again.
The bad feeling grew. Although he was the one who was advocating patience and being properly prepared, he had to admit, he was rapidly tiring of it. If the Order wasn't ready for the attack in the next few days, he wasn't sure if he would be able to prevent himself from taking her on his own.
The bad feeling grew so much that it spread throughout his entire body and his magic seemed to boil up within him. Merlin frowned. The room felt different. An unsettling feeling grew and seemed to fill him with dread.
He leapt suddenly to his feet, alert, and cast out with his magic in all directions, looking for something that was amiss. The others looked at him in alarm and also jumped to their feet, pulling their wands from the pockets.
"Merlin?" Fred asked urgently. "What is it?"
But Merlin didn't answer. A new sense of horror was creeping over him. The Old Religion was overwhelmingly trying to tell him something. There was something wrong, something very wrong.
"Merlin?"
"No!" Merlin gasped in horror as he suddenly realised what was happening. The familiar hum of magic that permeated Grimmauld Place was faltering and flickering out of existence. The protective spells around the house had been broken. They were exposed.
A familiar presence seemed to intrude upon his consciousness, a magic more powerful than anyone else in this century possessed. His magic recoiled in revulsion even as it surged ever more powerfully through his veins.
"Hello, Merlin."
Merlin froze as he heard the voice, her voice in his head. She was here.
"Merlin!" Remus shouted, as the house itself seemed to shake.
A popping noise brought Merlin back to reality and he whirled around to see a hooded and masked Death Eater Apparate into the kitchen, furiously brandishing a wand.
"Stupefy!" Draco cried immediately and the Death Eater crumpled, but in vain, as more and more Death Eaters appeared all around them, each of them pointing their wands at the people gathered there.
Merlin's eyes blazed with anger as he prepared to fight back. All this time they'd spent trying to find Morgana's base and prepare to attack it, Morgana had been doing the exact same thing to them. And she had made her move first.
Fawkes squawked loudly and vanished with a spurt of flame as Merlin and the others prepared their counterattack.
Merlin almost smiled. She was here. Perhaps he wouldn't have to wait until they brought the fight to her before he could kill her. He raised his palm:
"Acwellan!"
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny wandered around the Room of Requirement observing the duels that were going on. Harry couldn't help but grin as he watched. As useless as he might feel being able to do nothing against Voldemort until Merlin said so, at least here, he had a purpose. They were fighting back.
Merlin wasn't here, which was unusual. He was supposed to come to help Harry with the DA, and he was also supposed to be teaching Harry some more Old Magic after the lesson before they headed to Grimmauld Place for the nightly meeting. He should be here by now.
"Bloody idiot," Ron muttered darkly, gesturing to a younger student as he came up to Harry. "Doesn't he know how to aim properly? I won't be able to sit down for a week!"
Harry opened his mouth to offer a teasing remark, when suddenly, there was a great flash of fire in the room which caused many to cry out in alarm.
Harry frowned and then he saw Fawkes sitting in the middle of the room, calling out urgently and looking rather agitated.
Harry glanced at the others in momentary confusion. A feeling of dread came over him then, and his heart seemed to go cold. Something was wrong.
He leapt forwards with many of the others towards Fawkes who was brandishing his tail feathers frantically, spurring them on. They had to leave this place.
"Harry! What about us?" Dean Thomas yelled back to him, gesturing to the DA, who were watching the bird with unconcealed fear.
Harry hesitated for a moment before making his decision. "All of you in sixth year and over come with me! The rest of you, let McGonagall and the other teachers know!"
There were many protests, but Harry didn't heed them, he didn't have time.
He grabbed hastily on to Fawkes' tail feathers with Ron, Hermione and Neville, and Ginny, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender, Terry, Anthony, Michael, Ernie, Susan, Hannah and many others grabbed on to their other hands, and a second later they were all vanishing in another flash of fire.
Before he was whisked away, Harry had one last thought.
Is this finally it?
A/N: A couple of things! I may or may not be able to update next week. I've got three essays due and as much as I hate them, I just have to grit my teeth and get on with them. Be assured, this is a punishment for me too!
Another: an anonymous reviewer asked me how long this story is going to end up being. And the honest answer ... not entirely sure. I'd only originally planned for about 20 chapters, and I've now done 36 so ...
But I think the story is now more or less drawing to a close. It'll probably get to at least 40 chapters, but not much beyond that, and not to 50. This makes me incredibly sad :(
A ton of you have asked about me writing other companion stories to this, like what Merlin got up to in those thirteen hundred years, how he met the Hogwarts Founders and others about sequels involving the return of the magic of the Old Religion, the Next Generation or abolishing the International Statute of Secrecy, all of which are really intriguing. I put it to you: what do you think?
As always, I'd love it if you could let me know what you thought about the chapter! :)