Giant skeletons of massive, threatening and deadly beasts surround the room. An entire small army of them. A winged monster, sharp talons extended from its feet mid grasping motion, suspends from the ceiling looming over them with a look of sheer menace. As Arthur casts his eyes around, he spots several tiny creatures equally as frightening standing alongside their mountain sized companions.
Slowly, he lets relief wash away the vigorous pounding adrenalin that had surged through his body upon entering, for the monsters are all very clearly dead. Long dead. Nothing but spotlessly picked clean bones hover in place as if welded together, not a hint of flesh or rot in sight. Arthur smells the air to find it clean and fresh.
"You alright Arthur?" Arthur reluctantly peels his eyes away from the remains, Merlin's concern evident.
"Dragons, Merlin. They have dragons." Arthur's voice is but a whisper.
Realization flashes across Merlin's face. "It would look that way, wouldn't it." His voice is quite.
"How does a muggle museum come across the remains of dragons?" Draco's question doesn't seem directed at anyone in particular, but Hermione answers anyway.
"They don't. They're not dragons." Her voice takes on the tone of a professor mid-lecture. "These bones belonged to dinosaurs. They were the creatures to inhabit the earth before humans. Dragons and Their Origins states that dragons first came into existence millions of years before humans. At that time dinosaurs were the earth's main inhabitants. Dragons are like the magical cousins of dinosaurs."
"So, like wizards and muggles then?" Ron's eyes are wide as he looks up at the bones of the flying beast overhead.
Jaws large enough to swallow him whole loom close enough to the boy's face to make Arthur break out into a sweat, deceased creature or no.
"In a way, but mostly no. Wizards and muggles are all humans, whereas dinosaurs have distinct genetic differences to dragons. Species cousins is a good way of putting it." Merlin wanders from monster to monster, peering at them with a burning curiosity.
Arthur tries to imagine a time when the earth was overrun by such beasts and feels a shudder go down his back. Thank the gods they went extinct before humans came to be. He turns his head away from the monsters to face out the window, blocking out the howling screams and shouts bouncing around in his head. He squeezes his eyes shut in attempt to dispel the images of burning houses and charred bodies.
He startles abruptly at the feel of something landing on is shoulder. He turns his head to meet Merlin's eyes. "We can head over to the other exhibits and meet up with the others later." Understanding shines in his eyes as he takes Arthur's hand in his and leads him away.
Arthur keeps silent as Merlin leads him out, appreciating his polite not mentioning of his sweaty and lightly trembling hand.
After several twining corners, barely glimpsed marvels tucked neatly behind glass, and a long impressive hallway, Merlin stops them in front of a white room filled wall to wall with huge and impressive paintings.
A life-sized man inscribed with more detail than Arthur would have been able to make out if he were standing directly in front of the live man himself, stares imperiously out at the room clutching the limp form of a dead goat in even more horrifying clarity.
"My gods. Is this another example of technology?" Arthur squints up at the man's face, taking a step closer. "The moving portraits in the castle I understand were a product of magic, surly this is the 'muggle' technological equivalent?" I could count the pours in the man's face!
Merlin lets out a soft laugh. "No, this is just paint. Paint, skill, and time."
Arthur's eyes widen. "It must have taken a lifetime. One painting for the entire span of a man's life." That level of dedication is truly incredible.
"A lifetime of practicing the craft," Merlin nods his head." But only perhaps several years to complete this piece in particular." Merlin leads him gently over to the next painting.
Arthur feels as if he could reach out and push the painted lady over, climb into the frame, and live in the background himself. The forest scene is so heart-stoppingly familiar, it feels more real to him than the white room around them.
Merlin must have noted something in his expression, as he bumps him gently with his shoulder smiling. "This was done by a Welsh painter. You'd recognize the landscape."
Arthur feels like he could pitch camp and spend a year in this room marveling at the artwork, adventuring into the depicted scenes.
As they walk farther into the room, he notices a distinct change in style. The colours seem muted and faded, the flesh of the subjects taking on a doll-like appearance in their perfection, smooth unmarred skin as fine as glass. Reality bends and twists in the scenery, idealizing the world in ways only found in dreams and long faded memories.
Eventually as they continue on, Arthur finds his feet stopping in front of a painting that makes his eyes water. Simple lines, almost flat colours, the shine of gold leaf. His eyes bounce around the familiar image as a smile takes over his face.
"Merlin!" Merlin stops mid step, nearly tripping over himself. Arthur tugs on his hand and points with the other. "Look at this!"
Merlin's blue eyes narrow at the painting of the man in front of them, biting his lip in a way that Arthur has to force himself to stop looking at. "It looks… a bit familiar? I guess? I mean," He glances down at the label below it, "the date is about 75 years before our time, so it very well could have been something you've seen before." His brow wrinkles as he peers closer.
"Pfft! Perhaps seen before?! Really? You really don't remember it?" Arthur studies his face, Merlin's eyes dart around the painting as if analysing a map.
"No, I don't think so. Maybe."
Arthur bites down on his disappointment, his stomach leaden. Merlin scratches his face as he continues to analyze the artwork. After so many years, it's unrealistic to expect him to remember everything. I should feel grateful that he remembered what I looked like enough to recognize me as it is. It's actually quite astounding really, now that I think of it. It must be like trying to recall the faces of the people you knew as a child, everyone hazy and distant feeling. Arthur turns back to the familiar painting in front of him, trying not to wonder at what else has faded from the mind of his friend.
"So, you going to leave me hanging?" Merlin's inquiring face is closer than expected, the detail in the blue of his eyes a painting all of their own.
"It was the art on the wall in my room. It was there when the room belonged to my mother before my parents were betrothed. You've complained about dusting the little grooves in the ornate frame for years." Merlin's eyes dart up to the frame, tracing the grooves as the cloth used to. He looks puzzled. "You used to stand next to it after upsetting me, probably hoping I'd be too cautious to throw things in its direction. You were, of course, wrong. My aim is too true to miss my intended target."
Merlin laughs, his face losing its tight lines of concentration. "That sounds about right. I don't recall, but I'll take your word for it." He smiles as he tugs Arthur's hand, leading him around the rest of the room to admire the rest of the artwork.
Three perfectly white rooms filled with impressive and baffling paintings later, Arthur finds himself planted in front of what must be some sort of mistake. He turns his head slightly to peer at it from a different angle, but it remains unchanged.
"Intriguing isn't it? This one has always drawn my attention. Truly breathtaking." The stranger's voice startles Merlin and Arthur feels him jolt slightly.
"Mmm." Arthur gives a slight nod of his head.
The lady comes up beside Arthur, her attention flickering between Arthur's face and the bizarre painting of bright squiggly lines in front of them. "What do you think?" Her voice is smooth and lilted in an accent Arthur cannot place.
"It's…" Oh gods above, it's horrendous. Like some sort of failed breakfast food. "Definitely interesting." He clears his throat.
"That it is. Such a clear insight into the chaotic emotions the painter was feeling. Such raw intensity laid bare." Her eyes sparkle at him in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable.
Merlin save me.
"It's certainly a unique combination of colours. The way they were applied makes me think of-." Merlin's voice holds a pent up laugh and he abruptly cuts off. Damn you.
"You enjoy this one as well?" Her inquiring gaze settles on Merlin.
"Oh yes. I think this one would look lovely in Arthur's room. Or something like it at least." Arthur glares at him.
"Arthur is it?" She turns back to him. "Your son has excellent taste. Surely his father taught him well." Her smile turns flirtatious.
Arthur feels himself freeze in place, his expression gone ridged. He darts a quick look at Merlin to find his face a bright and startled red. He barks out a short uncontrollable laugh that he manages to get the reins on before it can roar out of control. "Certainly my influence has inspired whatever 'good taste' he has managed to acquire."
Merlin sputters. "I really think it's more along the lines of, despite your influence." The lady smiles at him in good humour, before regrettably turning her doting eyes back to Arthur.
"Maldin was just telling me earlier actually, how he had to use the rest room, sorry. If you'll excuse us my lady." She blushes at Arthur's words as she steps aside to make way for them.
They make a hasty exit in the direction of the men's room, trying to contain their reactions.
"Holy mother goddess above, your son?!" Merlin's face morphs and stretches into an assortment of different horrified and incredulous expressions.
"There's no way I look that old. I do not. More like your big brother if anything. Gods, it's not even like we look anything alike!" Arthur's indignant voice is pitched low.
Merlin looks down at their joined hands, biting his lip again, and Arthur is suddenly aware of what gave her that impression. He doesn't mention it.
"That painting was awful. Really. I'm actually surprised you didn't like it." The laughter finally bursts out of him and Merlin clutches at his side as if requiring the extra hold to keep himself from flying apart.
Arthur tries his best to muster up a glare, but his lips keep twitching upwards. After a few pathetic attempts, he gives it up, moving swiftly to trap Merlin in a headlock, messing up his hair with his splayed hand.
"There." He stands proud, looking to Merlin's new rats nest. "Much better."
Laughter bubbles up through Merlin's pathetic attempt at a menacing look. "Oh no. Not any more, never again." He frantically pats down his hair to no avail. Merlin's reflection in the mirror pouts at Arthur, frizzy hairs sticking up at all angles.
Arthur gives him a smug grin. "Perfect."
Merlin lets out an exasperated exhale, his eyes flashing a brilliant gold that glistens off the shining surfaces of the bathroom, seeming to light the room in the vibrant glow. As Arthur watches, his hair smooths down as if slicked by invisible hands, arranging itself into its original shape.
"That's cheating and you know it." Arthur crosses his arms.
Merlin sticks out his tongue as he turns to leave the bathroom.
…..
"Hurry, we're going to be late." Hermione's urgent voice carries to the back of their group as Arthur tries to usher Goyle through the exit.
"We wouldn't be so late if someone hadn't insisted on squeezing in that last exhibit." Goyle darts an accusatory eye up to the blond head next to Merlin.
"They have a precious stone exhibit. Stones!" Draco's eyes twinkle at the mere memory. "Do you know how many extremely important rituals and rare potions require some of the stones they had on display? Vital and potentially volatile ingredients just lying around! To stare at! Muggles are ridiculous!" His hands wave around to extenuate his point.
"Well, they were quite impressive to look at." Arthur picks up his pace to not lose sight of Hermione, only to stop abruptly.
Ethel. We didn't have time to visit Ethel. Arthur feels anger at himself for forgetting. Merlin didn't remind me. He directs his building scowl to an unsuspecting Merlin.
I guess it's not fare for me to expect him to only resume one of his manservant duties. After all this time I guess now it's up to me to keep track of everything.
He hurries up and catches Merlin's hand. "Hey," He whispers quietly, "I'd like to take this weekend to visit Ethel. Do we have something scheduled for then?"
Merlin's eyes bulge like a fish. "Oh goddess, I'm sorry. I completely forgot. Yes, I think that should be fine. We have dinner Saturday with Remus and Sirius, but plenty of time around that."
They turn a corner to come to a halting stop. "This is it. 289 Lordell Street, look." Ron points up at a decrepit sign that says just that, under the bold title of 'Tax Fraud Lawyer' The sign itself is crooked and yellowed.
Without question or hesitation, Hermione opens the frosted glass door and they head inside, Draco scrunching his nose at the dingy office front. Arthur has several burning questions, but holds them back, for fear of exposing his ignorance.
"Oh thank Merlin, we made it in time." Ron elbows Hermione in the side and, seeming to just realize what she said, her face pinks.
Their classmates are all crowding in the center of the room, shoulders bumping and shopping bags jostling.
"Quickly now, make room! We've got 7 seconds left! Hurry!" Professor Zaden's voice cuts over the chatter and students press even closer together to make a miniscule amount of room for them. Arthur feels about ten more questions pop up.
Merlin firmly grabs his shoulder and wedges them in amongst the hoard, urging him to take hold of a corner of what appears to be an old tattered rug.
Everyone snuggly clumped around the musty rug with a piece of it grasped firmly in hand, the room seems to hold its breath. Arthur feels his heart start to thump hard against his ribs.
"Don't let go." Merlin's voice is barely a whisper in his ear, his warm breath close enough to move the little hairs on his neck. Arthur supresses a shudder.
"What do you m-" The air is abruptly tugged out of his lungs as the world jolts violently around him. Arthur feels the cosmos spiraling around him endlessly, the floor lost beneath his feet. Frantically clutching at the rug corner as if it's the lone object tethered to reality, Arthur thrusts out his free hand for some sort of stability. It knocks against something soft and clothed feeling, his fingers clamping down hard around it.
The world finally slows around him, the blur of colour solidifying into smudged shapes he can almost make out. The rug piece no longer feels like the center of existence. Sooner than Arthur was prepared for, the hard ground comes up to slam into him like a fist to the gut.
Sprawled in a messy lump on the grassy ground, Arthur still feels the clothed something in his hand, the rug bit no longer at hand. Panic shoots through him upon this realization. He searches the floor frantically for the rug. Merlin said not to let go. What if I was brought somewhere half a world away? His eyes scan the grassy floor.
Students sprawled out in heaps are scattered across the ground. Some of them are magically standing upright. Arthur takes a relived breath in, letting the pounding of his heart relax back to a normal tempo. He unclenches his hand from around whatever it was he had latched onto in his desperation. His eyes trail over to see what it was, an embarrassed apology waiting on his lips.
Merlin, trying to rub some life back into his arm. Well then. He gives him a flat stare. Serves him right. "Didn't feel inclined to notify me of what we were about to go through beforehand?"
Merlin's eyes widen, his hair back in disarray. "I'm so sorry. I hadn't used a portkey in quite some time. I'd forgotten just how unpleasant they were."
"I don't know how anyone could forget an experience such as that. I wouldn't half mind wiping it from my mind if that was an option." Arthur struggles unsteadily to his feet, ignoring the smug students who remained upright. He takes a bit of satisfaction at the sight of Merlin's sprawled form on the ground.
"All right, on your feet everyone! You'll have some free time before your next class to write your personal analysis on the experience. I expect them to be completed in three days time, 20 inches of scroll minimum. You can reach me in McGonagall's office." The students scamper to their feet and follow after her in the direction of the castle.
As they approach the large front gates, Arthur can make out a figure running towards them from the school.
"Wonder what that's about." Ron squints his eyes to try to make out the distant figure.
At the half way point, the person's features fill out into a recognizable face. They hurry their pace to meet him.
"Hey, professor Lupin, is everything alright?" Arthur comes to a stop in front of him.
The man's face is lined with worry. "The headmaster has requested you and Maldin to meet him in his chambers. It's urgent."
"Of course, we'll follow you there." Arthur meets Merlin's wide and concerned eyes.
They continue their path up to the school, Draco Ron and Hermione subtly trying to catch either of their attention. Merlin motions them aside, "We'll fill you guys in later, I'm assuming you'll find out what it is at the next order meeting anyway. I'll meet with you three in the third empty potions room from the boy's bathroom at noon tomorrow." He leaves before they can respond with anything, Arthur looking back over his shoulder to see Draco and Ron scowling at each other hissing quite words Arthur's too far away now to make out.
They make the rest of the trip in a brisk walk, weaving around students on their way between classes. Numerous pairs of inquiring eyes track their movement, until they turn the final bend leading up to the headmaster's quarters.