Note: I didn't really plan on continuing this but I got a comment asking for this scene and got inspired! Also, I haven't read or seen Cursed Child so if Albus Potter is OOC, that's why. I hope you enjoy!

Dying hadn't been a pleasant experience for Arthur. Being killed by a man you trusted who was spurred on by your sister wasn't ideal. Add to that your best friend revealing that, for whatever very good reason, he had been lying to you the whole time you had known each other… Yes, it was safe to say that Arthur had not enjoyed dying. At least, though, he had known what was happening and how and why. Which was more than he could say for his resurrection.

One moment he had been blissfully dead and unaware, the next a brown eyed, vaguely familiar young woman had woken him up; handed him Excalibur; said, "It's time, your majesty," and shoved him through brilliantly shining doorway. After stumbling blindly through the light, Arthur found himself standing on the shore of a lake confronting a curious, green-eyed youth. Over the years, Arthur liked to think he'd grown into the role of king: he could make speeches and toasts with the best of them; he thought out his decisions carefully and then implemented them effectively; he had learnt the fine art of standing straight and wearing a regal emmien/em (whatever Merlin might have said). All he could manage now was a confused frown, a sword dragging uselessly in the grass and an almost incoherent, "What the hell?"

The green-eyed youth was staring excitedly with a grin that reminded Arthur of Merlin at his most annoying, then he stuck out a hand, "I'm Al. Albus Potter, that is, great to meet you!"

Normally Arthur would have taken issue if one of his subjects had introduced themselves so casually, without even a pretence of respect for Arthur's station (even Merlin and Gwaine could manage that) but right now he didn't care. Albus. It sounded roman, so Arthur couldn't have been dead (dying, asleep, healing, actually dead?) for too long. "Albus," Arthur nodded a greeting, "would you be so kind as to show me the way back to Camelot?"

Albus looked at him a little strangely. Arthur didn't like it. "Camelot?"

"Yes, Camelot. My kingdom. I know it is not far – this is Avalon, is it not?" Arthur couldn't say how he knew where he was, he just did. The vague memories of Merlin trying desperately to get him somewhere before Arthur died seemed to confirm his guess. Arthur had never been to Avalon himself, but he knew it was within Camelot's borders. Albus should know how to get back to the citadel.

Albus' eyes were wide, "Yes. Yes, this is Avalon. I-" His green eyes scanned the lake shore quickly, looking for something and apparently coming up empty. He shrugged, then gestured to the grass at their feet, "Why don't you sit down for a bit?"

What Arthur really wanted was to go home, but since he would need Albus' cooperation for that, at least at the beginning, he followed the boy's lead and sat down.

"So, er, I guess I have to explain everything then," Albus began hesitantly.

"Explain what?" Somehow, Arthur knew he wasn't going to like this explanation.

"Well…" Albus rubbed his arm where Arthur suddenly noticed a fresh scar, "So, like, you're King Arthur, yeah? And you were dead."

So far, Arthur knew all of this although hearing of his death from someone else was slightly disconcerting. He nodded.

"Right," Albus continued, "right. There was this prophecy, about you. How you would return to help in…" Albus trailed off uncomfortably.

"In…" Arthur prompted. He was heartily sick of prophecies and fate but he couldn't deny that he was dead and now he wasn't.

"In the time of Albion's greatest need," Albus finished. Then, "Which I may or may not have caused. Accidentally caused!"

Arthur stared at him incredulously.

"Well how was I to know?!" Albus protested, suddenly indignant. "Rose said it wasn't even possible! But I had to try, you know? It's not my fault she was wrong! Even Scorpius said I might as well try and he doesn't like doing anything that might turn out badly for him. Anyway, even if it did go wrong, no one thought it would cause the end of the world! We survived Mouldy Voldy, by Merlin!"

Arthur started out the haze of incomprehension he had fallen into, "Merlin?"

"What?" Albus stopped mid-flow. Something about eating death?

"You said Merlin. Where is he?"

"Oh. Oh. I don't know. Uncle Severus and Uncle Sirius talk about him sometimes and Dad said he came to my first birthday party but I've never really met him."

"But you said his name."

"Did I? It's just habit. He's like, the most famous wizard ever so we kinda use him as a swear word. Which actually doesn't make any sense. But Aunt Hermione says that wizards never make any sense, so I guess it does make sense?"

Arthur thought he had been confused when that lady shoved him through a glowing door barely fifteen minutes ago. Compared to now, everything had been crystal clear then.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily for Arthur's dwindling sanity, Albus continued talking, "Take Hogwarts, for example. The stairs that always move and take you somewhere that you didn't actually want to go but you never end up late to class because of it. emThat/em doesn't make sense. Or what about the Forbidden Forest which we can't go into unless we're on detention when we emhave/em to go in. But we need a permission slip for Hogsmead weekends!"

"Please!" Arthur begged, eventually, "Stop!"

"Oh. Sorry!" Albus grinned, "I guess a lot has changed since you've been de- er, that is… hm."

Dead. Yes. Arthur had died and woken up again in a mad world. "How long have I been gone, exactly?"

Albus looked uncomfortable, "Well, no one really knows exactly. But we think probably about one and a half thousand years?" The boy's voice ended on a little high-pitched squeak and he cringed away from Arthur slightly.

"One- No. That's not… But-"

Apparently satisfied that Arthur wouldn't lash out in his shock, Albus began to talk. Again.

"Yeah. It's been a while. A long time. But you're back now to help us fix this tiny little problem I may have caused, so that's good."

Arthur stared blearily around him. He had been dead for so long. Guinevere, Camelot… everything would have been long gone and yet here he was. He couldn't tell. The lake and the grass and the trees looked exactly as they always had done but the world was so much older. Albus chatted on, oblivious (or kindly ignoring) Arthur's turmoil. Arthur vaguely heard something about a curse, a crystal and an army. He could deal with that later. Right now, he needed to come to terms with time. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of red caught his attention. Someone was approaching. Arthur's hand found Excalibur and tensed. Then, a very familiar voice said, "Potter, what have you done?"

"Merlin?!" Arthur breathed.

Albus jumped to his feet. "It wasn't my fault. Well, not entirely anyway-"

Merlin was closer now. Close enough to touch almost. Arthur stood up slowly. Merlin's attention was still on Albus, "Potter, whatever you did we can discuss it later. Go home and gather Albus, Minerva, Severus, the Marauders, Kingsley, and all your aunts and uncles-"

"And Scorpius?"

Merlin rolled his eyes in that familiar way of his, "And Scorpius and Draco and anyone else who might be able to help. I'll… We'll," he grinned, "meet you there. Now, if you don't mind, I've waited a very long time to see Arthur again so piss off!"

Albus gave a cheery little wave then disappeared into thin air with a loud crack. Arthur jumped. Merlin shook his head, "That one may have been sorted into Slytherin but he still spends too much time with Gryffindors."

That sentence made about as much sense to Arthur as the nonsense that Albus had been spouting. It didn't matter though. "Merlin?"

Merlin suddenly leapt at Arthur, engulfing him in a hug. Arthur wasn't normally a hugger, but now he hugged Merlin back just as tightly. When Merlin pulled away Arthur quickly wiped away the tears that had begun to form in his eyes. Merlin had no such shame and tears drifted freely down his cheeks. "I missed you, Arthur. Sometimes I thought you'd never come back."

Arthur stared at his friend. The same and yet not. Merlin was wearing the same style of clothes as Albus had been wearing – trousers in a thick blue material and a soft, red jacket with a hood – but it was in Merlin's eyes that Arthur really noticed the difference. Merlin had always had old eyes, but now Merlin looked ancient. Arthur was reminded uncannily of the Disir he had met what seemed like barely six months ago and suddenly realised that Merlin had not been lying when he said he had waited a long time for Arthur to return. Arthur had a million questions, a million things he wanted to say, but, in the end, he fell back on what they did best. "I hear we have a world to save?"

Merlin smiled, "Once more unto the breach, dear friend?"