True to form, this chapter turned out longer than I intended, and got finished a lot quicker than I thought it would.
Also I've just realised that Draco's birthday really should have taken place at the end of the last chapter. So, lets all just pretend that right after the last chapter they did a small birthday celebration in the Hospital Wing or something for Draco offscreen.
I tried to make this chapter mostly fluff but that didn't really go as intended. There's also a scene that I wrote ages ago and barely realised in time that I had to put in this chapter or it wouldn't make sense.
Regardless of all of the above, welcome to the official last chapter of book 1! Thanks so much for sticking with me (and also sticking around) over the years and for your patience and continuing enthusiasm despite my sometimes spotty progress. I'm almost sad that I've finished book 1 but I'm also really excited for book 2 because I have side plots and scenes that I've been sitting on for years at this point that I can't wait to finally share. I hope you've enjoyed this fic as much as I have (when I wasn't trying to tear my hair out over getting timelines to match up) and that you'll enjoy book 2 just as much. More information about how I'm handling book 2 is in the end notes, but I recommend reading the chapter first since other parts of the end notes contain minor spoilers.
6th June 13:29 – Mirror Room
"How can you have no information for us?" Senior Auror Finn West demanded of the three druids, "You've been here for over a day and not only have you said that you have no comment on the disappearance of the damn Mirror but you haven't offered any useful input on what happened here that we did not already have from the Unspeakables!"
Miranda Deverill opened her mouth to say that actually the three members of the Spring Air Clan that had arrived to help had been extremely helpful in excluding multiple possibilities, but a sharp nudge from her partner made her keep quiet.
"I'm afraid I don't understand the problem, Auror West," said Ninniane Murray. The way that the other two druids deferred to her told Miranda that even though Colin Hume had introduced himself as the spokesperson for the group, Ninniane had the most authority.
"You're hiding something." Senior Auror Eileen Miles said bluntly. "You know it, we know it, the Unspeakables know it. We want to know what you're trying to hide, and why."
The three druids exchanged such a long glance that Miranda could almost believe the rumours that druids communicated telepathically, even though every druid that had ever been asked denied it.
"It relates to the Mirror." Gareth Ramsey eventually admitted, running a hand through his curly red hair. "If it is indeed the Mirror of Erised – as all evidence and appearances indicate – then there's knowledge we have about it that we're not sharing, but I assure you it has no bearing on the situation with Quirrell, the spirit, or young Mr Potter."
"You can't know that!" Hector Poppins snapped. Miranda sighed at her partner's agitation. "You can't know that the knowledge you have about the Mirror won't help Madam Pomfrey with waking Potter. You can't know that it won't shed light on the situation surrounding Quirrell and his spirit, and you can't know what sharing the information might help us discover!"
Miranda put a hand on his shoulder. They worked in the Spirit Room and didn't often have to deal with crime scenes or living victims. The only reason they'd even been sent instead of a more senior team was because she'd transferred over from the Spell Chamber and it was considered more expedient to send someone experienced in both rather than two teams.
Hume inhaled sharply, face turning red in anger, but Murray placed a hand on his arm. "Peace, Colin." She turned to the Unspeakables, ignoring the two Aurors still in the room. "Please understand that you are asking us to share historical secrets that the druids keep to themselves for a reason. If we thought there was any chance of what we knew being able to help Mr Potter then we would do everything in our power to help him. As it stands, we truly believe that there is nothing our knowledge can contribute whatsoever."
"And what about Miriam Howard? She's been moved to St Mungo's to recover from her injuries." Eileen said, stepping in. "And druids rarely, if ever, attend Hogwarts so how could you know that your information cannot help Mr Potter, when Madam Pomfrey and our Healers can find no reason that he is still unconscious and have told us that the only thing anyone can do is wait?"
Murray and Hume exchanged another look. "We know what's wrong with Mr Potter." He admitted reluctantly. "But we haven't shared because there's nothing you can do. The Healers are correct, you just have to wait."
Finn West looked a heartbeat from hitting the roof, but Hector got there first. "What's wrong with him?" He demanded, "And don't think I didn't notice that you said 'you' instead of 'we'. What's stopping you from helping?"
"It's an old form of blood protection." Murray said after a moment. "It's based on sacrifice and love. My guess is that he's unconscious because the magic has deduced he's safe and needed to reinforce or recharge the protection in some way."
"I've never heard of anything like that." Miranda said in confusion. "Admittedly that's not my department, but surely there'd be some kind of record of such a thing."
"Not in your records." Murray said, shaking her head. "It's not Wand Magic. It's Old Magic. And an incredibly old form of it. This is the first incidence of its use that's been found in nearly five centuries."
"Which is also why we can't help." Said Hume. "We know – theoretically – how to speed up the process of him waking. But even if it didn't require a skill that none of the three of us have, and even if we could guarantee that the form it takes is exactly the same as in previous cases, Mr Potter is a wand user – he doesn't use Old Magic. And you know as well as we do that mixing the two can have catastrophic consequences. There's a reason that it's all but illegal to do so."
Finn West looked reluctantly understanding. "What of the cases where it does mix well? And what of Miriam?"
Murray tucked her hands into the green and yellow sleeves of her robes. "Those cases are rare and certain conditions must be met to allow for it – and I assure you that that is not the situation here. I don't know how Mr Potter came by this protection when we ourselves have no record of how to create such a thing and only know the bare basics of what is required – but attempting to use Old Magic to speed his waking will have no good consequences. Not for him, and not for us."
"As for Auror Howard," Ramsey said, "Her condition doesn't relate to the Mirror or the spirit at all. It was a simple blood-boiling curse. The spirit may have augmented its power, but the spell came from Quirrell. St Mungo's is where she'll receive the best help now."
"And the Mirror?" Hector asked.
Murray shook her head before she began to speak some sort of denial, but Miranda interrupted her before she could.
"The magic of Hogwarts has been studied for years by the Unspeakables that work in the Spell Chamber. It's possible, even likely, that combining our knowledge could reveal what happened to the Mirror."
Murray closed her eyes for a moment, looking completely unconvinced. "Fine." She said, "But we will reveal our knowledge to as few people as possible. The Aurors will leave the room and the two Unspeakables must swear an Oath not to record or reveal any of the knowledge we are about to disclose to anyone outside the sixteen druid clans."
Eileen Miles frowned, clearly prepared to object but Miranda shook her head at her, and Hector spoke before either Auror could voice any objections.
"Deal!" he said, barely containing his excitement.
The two Aurors left unhappily, and as soon as they cleared the threshold to the previous room, Hume and Ramsey started casting spells that would presumably prevent any eavesdropping.
"Your oath." Murray said implacably, and Miranda and Hector immediately gave it.
Murray's eyes glowed gold after she murmured a string of unfamiliar words, and Miranda froze when she felt a ribbon of unfamiliar, tempestuous magic wrap around her, lingering on her throat, head, and hands, before dissipating.
"Excuse the precautions, but this is not something we like to share with outsiders." Murray said, completely unapologetically.
"What did that last spell do?" Hector asked, sounding as uneasy as Miranda felt.
"Think of it as an alarm charm." Murray said placidly, unfolding her hands from her robe sleeves, "It will alert us if you attempt to share the information we are about to share with you in defiance of your oath."
Miriam and Hector exchanged a look but said nothing. Given the way most of the magical world treated the druids it wasn't unfair of them to reinforce the oath they'd demanded with their own magic, after all, many wizards, witches, and wixen, especially Traditionalists, treated them as second-class citizens at best when they encountered them in spaces like Diagon Alley or the Ministry.
Once Hume and Ramsey both confirmed that the spells and wards that they'd cast were in place, Murray began.
"The Mirror of Erised is an ancient artifact." She said, drawing her hands through the air and leaving a glowing trail that formed the image of a large standing mirror, "If you read our histories then you'll find that there are seven such mirrors, and that they are older than we are, and pre-exist even the earliest druid clans." She paused for a moment, letting the glowing image fade, "What the histories won't say is that these seven mirrors are the reason the druids exist."
Hume stepped forward, drawing his own hands through the air, "Thousands of years ago, back when most of the gods still existed, the magic users of Albion got cocky." The glowing trail consolidated into several dozen miniature figures gathered together, forming an army or parade, "They wanted immortality, and decided that gaining control of Avalon was the best way to get it. They declared war upon the Sidhe-"
"A stupid decision, really." Ramsey said, rolling his eyes. Murray sent him a sharp look and he ducked his head and murmured an apology.
Hume continued as though the interruption had never occurred. "The war didn't last all that long in the grand scheme of things, a couple of decades, more or less. To say it was brutal is an understatement. By the end of it, the magic users of Albion had been decimated by the Sidhe and their allies."
"But that wasn't enough for them." Murray said, swiping her hand through the remains of the glowing figures representing the magic users, "They created seven mirrors, each powerful in their own unique way, and gave them to the humans of Albion. They said that they were gifts. Peace offerings in light of the atrocities committed by both sides." She closed her eyes, hands stilling. "This was a lie." She said quietly, "They were a punishment, designed to teach humans the consequences of trying to claim a power that was not theirs to take. Each Mirror showed an observer something different, and all unique to the person. The one thing they had in common was that they all drove people to madness. Some killed themselves, others wasted away, yet others killed anyone they laid eyes on or who came near them. For decades the bloodshed that the Mirrors brought ruled Albion as its people did everything they could to possess the Mirrors for themselves or else destroy them – a feat that proved impossible. The carnage made the war with the Sidhe seem almost paltry in comparison. And for most, it was far worse, because neighbours would turn on each other without warning at the mere prompting of the Mirrors."
The glowing figures that had been murdering each other faded away as Miranda and Hector exchanged wide-eyed looks. They'd never seen any record that even hinted at this level of bloodshed. Miranda wondered if this was one of the reasons that the magical population of the Isles was so low compared to the non-magical population in comparison to other countries.
"Eventually," said Hume, "A man named Mordred could not bear the conflict for any longer."
"Mordred?" said Hector in surprise. "Like King Arthur's Mordred? Sorry." He added when Ramsey glared at him for the interruption.
"No," Murray said, sounding amused, "This was a different Mordred, although it's possible, and even likely, that Sir Mordred of Camelot was named after him."
Hume glanced at Murray and when she nodded that she was finished he continued, drawing the glowing figure of a handsome man, on bended knee. "He travelled to the Lake of Avalon and begged the Sidhe to take the Mirrors back. He cried that the punishment had long been understood but that anyone who had been involved in the war had long since perished. The Sidhe Elders ignored him, but the Triple Goddess heard his plea and was moved by his words. She took the form of one of the spirits of Avalon – Mordred's great-grandmother, Ninianne, who had perished in the early years of the Sidhe war."
Miranda looked at Murray in surprise.
"I was named after her." Murray confirmed, "Many druids have been over the years."
Hume ignored them, his hands sketching a tall woman with three faces standing over a kneeling Mordred, "She spoke to him. We have no record of what she said or how she felt about the Mirrors or why she chose to intervene, but when she had finished, Mordred left the shores of the lake and gathered the seven Mirrors. He entrusted each Mirror to a different family for safekeeping. These families all swore to reject war and conflict and to live their lives in a manner that upheld peace and harmony. They swore to do no harm and to offer help to all who needed it, regardless of who they were or where they were from. The seven families then scattered to different corners of Albion."
The seven glowing figures each picked up one of the glowing Mirrors and turned their backs on each other, dissipating into nothingness as they walked away.
"These seven families became the first druid clans." Ramsey said, taking up the thread. "As time went by, the families grew, and some members split off and formed their own clans based on the same precepts. Eventually this consolidated into the sixteen druid clans that still exist today, but the original seven still remain, and continue their duties as guardians, their mandate unchanging."
"And how does this explain the presence of the Mirror of Erised?" Miranda asked in a hushed tone, unwilling to break the quiet awe that filled the room.
Murray sighed, "The family that the Mirror of Erised was entrusted to settled on land that would later belong to a Kingdom known as Camelot."
Hector inhaled with a hiss, and Miranda covered her mouth, both of them able to see where this was going.
"When the Great Purge began. Uther Pendragon led his knights against the clan – and came very close to wiping it out. Only a handful of clan members escaped, most of them children, hidden by their parents as soon as the knights came into view. We don't know exactly what happened to the Mirror then. But there is little doubt that had Uther laid eyes on it, he would have had it destroyed. However, none of the clan members that escaped had managed to take it with them." Murray waved the golden figures away with a sigh. "Our scholars theorise that the Mirrors were created with a defence mechanism. If they were tampered with or placed in a situation where their destruction was threatened, then they would remove themselves from the danger. But in all honesty, we have no way of knowing."
"Why not?" Hector asked.
"Because no druid would ever try to examine any of the Mirrors in such a manner." Ramsey scoffed, "Trying to unravel the magic like that is asking for the enchantments on the Mirrors to drive you mad or kill you."
Hume examined the two of them for a moment, "The Mirror of Erised – the Desire Mirror – is not the only of the seven Mirrors that was lost. Over the years, three of the seven have vanished." He shook his head, "They show up from time to time in history, but the druids have always been unable to retrieve them before they disappear again."
"The thing about items enchanted with Old Magic," said Murray, tiredly, "Is that they often gain a kind of sentience in line with their purpose. The Mirrors were designed to sow chaos in the world. Without a druid clan watching them, the three missing Mirrors appear and disappear whilst doing so."
Miranda nodded and Hector looked down in contemplation.
"Which druid clans?" he asked.
Murray smiled wryly, "While most druids know which of the sixteen clans are the seven oldest, only a druid that comes from one of those clans would know which Mirror they were entrusted with, and they would never tell you. The Mirrors are dangerous. And the best way to protect the world from them, is to hide them from the world."
Miranda nodded. "You said there were seven mirrors?" she asked.
The druids looked at each other, and Ramsey nodded.
"What are they?" She asked. "Which ones are missing?"
At Murray and Hume's nod of permission, Ramsey started listing them off, "The Mirror of Self – one of the other lost Mirrors, and probably the least dangerous of the seven; the Mirror of Luos; the Mirror of Erised – which you've seen for yourselves in the photos the Aurors took; the Mirror of Beasts; the Mirror of Daerd; the Mirror of Seimene – the last of the lost Mirrors, and one of the most dangerous; and the Mirror of Mrah – which many druids call the Mirror of Blood."
"If that's all the questions you have?" Murray queried, stepping back.
"Yes." Hector said after he shared a quick glance with Miranda.
"Good." Said Murray, "Endiaþ." Her eyes flashed gold and the wards that the other druids had put up briefly glowed silver before dissolving into nothing.
Miranda bit back a cry of disappointment at being unable to examine the wards and instead thanked the three druids for sharing their knowledge.
It was clear that the Mirror would not be coming back and was unlikely to be found again. In light of her new knowledge, Miranda wondered how the Hogwarts Professors had managed to find it at all.
. . .
8th June 15:03 – Hospital Wing
"Just five minutes," Harry pleaded with Madam Pomfrey.
"Absolutely not." She said. She was nice enough most of the time, but unfailingly strict when it came to the wellbeing of her patients.
"You let Professor Dumbledore and the Aurors in…"
"Well, of course, that was the Headmaster, it's quite different. And Auror West was most insistent that you be interviewed as soon as possible, and I couldn't possibly refuse the DMLE. It's an entirely different situation. You need rest, Mr Potter."
"I am resting, look, lying down and everything." Madam Pomfrey looked unconvinced and unimpressed, "Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey, please…"
"Oh, very well," she said, clearly unhappy but equally clearly aware that he'd keep begging her if she kept saying 'no', "But five minutes only."
And she let the others in.
"Harry!" Hermione looked like the only thing preventing her from flinging her arms around him was the hand Rowan had on her shoulder. Harry was glad that Rowan had held her back and that the others didn't look like they were going to fling themselves at him, because his head was still very sore.
"You look terrible." Said Emma, perching on the side of the bed next to him, and interrupting whatever Hermione was going to say.
Malfoy snickered and got comfortable next to her, keeping a hand fastened around her wrist the entire time. On her other side, Neville ducked his head down to hide a smile and kicked his legs where they were dangling above the floor.
"That's an awful thing to say!" Hermione said, sounding appalled.
Rowan shrugged, letting her go and leaning against the foot of Harry's bed, "True though."
Ron sat down in the single visitors chair that was available on Harry's other side and ignored the rest of them. "What really happened down there? I mean the whole school's talking about it, but there's no way any of the stories are accurate."
It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the Mirror; the Stone and Voldemort. They were a very good audience – gasping in all the right places. Malfoy got very upset when he found out that Harry had an Invisibility Cloak that no one had bothered to tell him about, and Emma made Rowan sit down about halfway through. When Harry told them what had been under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud, and Rowan shot to her feet, pacing and muttering under her breath with an unreadable look on her face.
When he had finished, they all took over and told him what had happened on their end.
Neville started by explaining how the Aurors had reacted and how the Professors had told the Aurors off when they hesitated to follow them down the trapdoor. Malfoy took over then, telling them all how the Aurors had been very worried about finding the rubble of the wall and how Snape had properly told him off for being so stupid, and how the Aurors had splinted his leg until they could move him. Emma and Rowan took it in turns to talk about what happened with the troll after he and Hermione had left. They told him about how they'd been hurt but the Aurors had turned up less than a minute after Hermione came back through the door, and how the Aurors had then taken them back to the Chess Room to wait for their backup.
"We saw the one healer bring you out." Emma said quietly. "We were most of the way out of the corridor by then – there were a whole bunch of Healers and Aurors helping us. He hurtled past with you on a stretcher, and they all immediately made way. You were so still and grey, you looked dead."
"They took us all up to the Hospital Wing and we heard them talking about how they didn't know what was wrong with you." Hermione said, looking down at where she'd grabbed his hand. "Ron was awake by that point too, and we were so scared that you wouldn't be ok."
"I'm glad that you all made me go for help." Admitted Neville, "If I hadn't… I mean who knows what might have happened if the Aurors and Healers hadn't got there when they did."
"I heard Auror Lowell talking to the others." Rowan admitted. "Later – when we were all supposed to be asleep. She said that she'd never seen anything like the spirit possessing Quirrell, and that it was far too powerful to be an ordinary spirit."
"If it was the Dark Lord that makes total sense though, doesn't it?" said Draco, "Everyone knows he was powerful; there's a reason everyone's so scared of him even though he's supposed to have been dead for years."
"He's not though." Said Neville, worriedly. "I mean, he was possessing Professor Quirrell – what if he finds some other way to come back?"
"Then he comes back." Emma said evenly, "And we fight when he does."
They all sat in silence for a while, contemplating the possibility.
"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron eventually, "Dumbledore, I mean. Sending you your father's Cloak and everything?"
"Well," Hermione exploded, "If he did – I mean to say – that's terrible – you could have been killed."
"Wouldn't put it past him." Rowan sniffed, "Everyone knows he's got a few screws loose."
"My father says he's mad. That he shouldn't be allowed to be in charge of the nation's children." Malfoy said scathingly, "But what else can you expect when even the Minister for Magic rolls over like a cruppy when Dumbledore so much as looks in his direction."
"But Dumbledore wouldn't – I mean surely – Gran's always said that Hogwarts is the safest place in the Isles." Neville stammered, "I mean Hermione's right – it's terrible to think he might have done it deliberately."
"He's a funny man, Dumbledore." Said Harry thoughtfully, "I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…"
"That's worse." Said Rowan, shaking her head so vigorously that her plait swung everywhere. "He's the Headmaster, he's supposed to keep us safe. That's his job. Letting you go charging into danger like that is doing the opposite!" She balled her fists in her robe, "But thank Salazar the other Professors take their job seriously. Can you imagine what would have happened if the Professors and the Aurors hadn't come after us when they did?"
There was an uneasy silence when she had finished, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. Emma, he noted, hadn't said a word all through the discussion, and just sat there with a stony look on her face, hands tangled with Malfoy and Neville's.
"You missed the last Quidditch match." Ron said suddenly, cheerfully, and clearly trying to change the subject. "We were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you. Their seeker's not really all that great, but without competition?" He shrugged. "It doesn't matter how good our chasers were, once he spotted the snitch it was all over."
"I mean, I'm kind of sorry you lost but also this means we won the House Cup, so not really." Rowan said, scrunching her nose, "Odd though, that they postponed the match like they did."
"What do you mean?" Harry, Malfoy, and Ron demanded all at once.
She frowned at them, "Normally the last match of the season is the last Saturday before exams – I asked Morgana about it and she said that they don't want students distracted by it, so they always try to make sure it happens before exams start so that any O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. students on the teams aren't focussed on match prep." She shrugged, "No idea why they postponed it this year though."
Before anyone could respond, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.
"You've had far longer than five minutes," she said firmly, "Mr Potter needs his rest. Now OUT!"
Harry mouthed sorry at them and they waved goodbye, saying different variations of hoping he got better soon – all except Malfoy, who stuck his tongue out and said that it was a shame that Harry wouldn't be stuck in the Hospital Wing for longer – but Harry thought that might have been a joke because he grinned afterwards and dodged the elbow Emma aimed at his ribs.
. . .
18th June – Hogwarts
When the exam results and final year rankings came out, to the surprise of absolutely no one but her, Hermione was top of the year, closely followed by Draco. Merlin was solidly fifth, behind Susan Bones and Michael Corner, and much to his surprise, Neville was not only not in the bottom five of the year, but he also only had one failing mark – potions – which his fantastic Herbology mark more than made up for. Harry and Ron both ended up solidly in the middle of the year, with not a single mark lower than fifty percent between them. Niamh on the other hand was very upset by the revelation that she'd been pushed out of the top five in her own year by a Ravenclaw girl – Merlin heard her muttering insults and curses under her breath, but personally was less than surprised given the dramatic drop in her History of Magic marks that resulted from her spending the night and morning before the exam fighting statues, a troll, and a very determined Mediwitch who had refused to let Niamh out of bed until she absolutely had to leave for her exam. Niamh subsequently swearing to regain her spot as fifth ranking student in her year, no matter what happened next year, left most of them suppressing laughter, with the sole exception of Hermione who was in complete agreement with Niamh that dropping a single spot in the rankings was a situation that needed to be rectified as quickly as possible.
. . .
19th June – Mull of Galloway
The Great Dragon swooped down and perched on the raised platform, looking down at the motley collection of people, both druids and not. "Well?" he rumbled. "You have all called to beg for my assistance for a reason, have you not?"
"Great Dragon." Said Gaius, stepping forward and bowing respectfully, ignoring the sweat that lined his brow from the power of the spell summoning the Dragon, and the ache in his legs from the long trek to the top of the cliff.
"Gaius." Said the Dragon. "It has been a long time since I last saw you." The Dragon settled himself more firmly on the rock and laid one foreleg over the other, giving off the impression of an elderly headmaster waiting for his disobedient students to confess to their wrongdoing.
"Please. I come seeking knowledge." Gaius kept his gaze fixed on the end of the Dragon's snout, and tucked his hands into the opposite sleeves, grateful that he'd agreed to wear the traditional druid's garb.
"And why should I help you?" The Dragon gazed out across the sea in the direction of Ireland, sounding completely indifferent, as though he had little interest in the conversation and had not once tried to kill Gaius.
"I know you have no reason to. But Merlin is your kin too and I do not understand. Everyone else has been born into the same families and relationships but she has not. She was my niece once, and now my sister is childless. And the closest I ever had to a child of my own is a stranger at best." Gaius fought to keep his voice from shaking but wasn't sure how well he managed it.
"Was there a question in there?" The Dragon shifted slightly, as though trying to get more comfortable, still appearing to only pay the barest attention to the doctor.
"Uther has already tried to ask the druids of the Winter Fire Clan, but they would not answer him on this topic." Gaius continued, as though the Dragon had not responded, too desperate for answers to let the Dragon deflect.
The Dragon snorted derisively. "At least you were smart enough to know what a terrible idea it would have been to send Uther to see me. He would not have left."
Gaius ignored the idle threat, once again avoiding the deflection. "Please. Why are her circumstances different?"
The Great Dragon paused and looked at Gaius head on for the first time. "That is her doing. The Ambrosius family has long had the blood of dragonlords in their line. And in circumstances such as this, blood counts for more than you would think. In this life, my old friend Balinor is not my kin. He simply has the memory of it. The young warlock, however, was always my kin, long before she ever gained the power of the dragonlords. Why would you think that her kin relationship to you and yours would ever take precedence over that which connects her to us?"
"Us?" Gaius asked, mind racing, trying to put the information he'd gained into an order that made sense. "Who is 'us'?"
"Iseldir," the Dragon said, ignoring him, "The old man is not alone in seeking my help. What is it that you came here for?"
"Information, Great Dragon, about one of the Sidhe Mirrors." The High Priest of the Spring Earth Clan said, bowing.
Gaius backed away from the edge of the cliff, puzzling over the riddle-like answers that the Dragon had given him, knowing that he would not get any more.
It just didn't make sense.
. . .
Evening – Great Hall, Hogwarts
The Great Hall was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver. Morgana couldn't have been prouder of her House. And even the loss of the House Cup hadn't dampened the spirits of the other students. Mordred had rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly when he came in and exchanged commiserating glances with his dark-haired Hufflepuff friend at the fact that Slytherin had yet again won the House Cup. Niamh had laughed, and the first years were practically glowing with pride. She'd spotted the disappointed faces of the Gryffindors when she came in and had caught a glimpse of Merlin dragging her clumsy friend to a spot at the centre of the table with their linked arms, broad grin firmly in place.
The chatter of the students only increased in volume as the final few stragglers came in, finding their seats at their respective House tables. Everyone was eager to cram in as much time as possible with their friends before they all had to go their separate ways for the summer.
Headmaster Dumbledore's arrival caused the excited babble to die away.
"Another year gone!" He said cheerfully.
"Do you think there's ever a situation where he isn't cheerful?" Kara wondered.
Morgana sent a glare down the table as an indication for her to shut up. This was her last end-of-year feast and she wanted to enjoy it as much as possible.
"Maybe if somebody died…" Niamh said idly, "Or if he had to duel someone. Probably."
Morgana didn't roll her eyes, but she did project the mental equivalent of a very loud 'shh!' in an attempt to get the younger girls to stop.
"And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast." Dumbledore continued, oblivious to the byplay going on between the three girls at the Slytherin table.
"Ok but imagine duelling someone smiling cheerfully at you," Kara said, "That would freak me out so bad."
"Shut up!" Mordred said, projecting his irritation, "I'm trying to listen and you're being distracting!"
"Such a good Ravenclaw." Niamh cooed, and Kara's mental cackle echoed across the link.
"What a year it has been!" Dumbledore said, smiling broadly down at the students. "Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…"
A smattering of laughter ran across the hall.
"Ok that was funny." Kara admitted, "I always forget that the old man has a sense of humour."
"He hides it pretty well most of the time, I think." Niamh said, "He only lets it out in front of the students."
"Now as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding," He said, gesturing to the cup in question, "And the points stand thus:"
Everyone at the Slytherin table sat up a little taller, and even the students that had been slouching and ignoring what Dumbledore was saying, looked up and paid attention. This was one of the most important parts of the year as far as most of the school was concerned, after all.
"In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points;" there was a subdued cheer from the far side of the hall, the Gryffindors clearly still disappointed by their resounding defeat in the last Quidditch match of the year. With a win, they certainly would have come close to winning the House Cup. "In third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two;" a slightly louder cheer came from the Hufflepuff table, "Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six," a mix of boos and cheers came from the other three tables, the Gryffindors apparently still a little bitter, "and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two." The Slytherin table erupted with cheers and shouts, and Morgana even caught a couple of people banging their goblets against the table. She couldn't stop her own smile, pleased to be winning the cup in her last year.
"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin," said Dumbledore, a little dismissively, and Morgana narrowed her eyes. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
"No." Kara said slowly, "There's no way. He wouldn't. That's just cruel."
"I don't think he could even if he wanted to." Said Niamh, and Morgana could practically hear her mind racing, "Draco and I were there too, and he'd have to give the Gryffindors an unfair amount of points in comparison to us if he wanted to."
"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…"
"There's a hundred and sixty points between Gryffindor and Slytherin and from what you've said there were five Gryffindors and two Slytherins there. He'd need to give everyone fifty-five points each if he wanted to award evenly to keep the appearance of fairness, and still give Gryffindor the cup." Mordred said, clearly doing the calculations as he went along, "If he weights it by injury severity, he can probably give everyone but Potter fifty points and then as long as he gives Potter more than sixty, Gryffindor will win."
"If he does do that, when he could have given these points at any point during the last two weeks and not let us think we've won right up until the Feast, I'm going to write to the Board and report him." Niamh said grimly, "He could make an announcement for something like that at any time, there's no need to wait until the very last minute."
"First – to Mr Neville Longbottom…"
Morgana scanned the Gryffindor table until she saw Merlin smiling at her clumsy friend, clearly pleased for him.
"… for having the courage to admit that help was needed and hurrying to secure it, I award Gryffindor house forty points."
Merlin led the cheers for her House, hugging him while beaming proudly from ear to ear, and saying something that was inaudible over the cheers.
"To Mr Ronald Weasley… for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, even if he never got to finish it, I award Gryffindor house forty points."
This time it was Percy Weasley leading the cheers, the red-headed Prefect seemed fit to burst with pride for his younger brother.
"To Mr Draco Malfoy…" Morgana let out a quiet breath, relieved that in this at least it was going to be fair and sent a proud nod to the surprised first-year, "…for remaining calm and not giving in to panic in desperate circumstances, I award Slytherin house forty points."
"If he gives all of us forty points then Slytherin's still up by forty points at the end," Niamh said quickly, "But if he gives more weight to Potter and Hermione then he has to give them at least sixty-five points each in order to beat us."
Morgana sent her a burst of acknowledgement and returned her attention to the Headmaster as the cheers of the Slytherin table died down again. The first-years that had jumped on Malfoy in delight untangled themselves. Morgana suppressed her amusement as they hurriedly righted their clothes and pretended that they hadn't done something so childish and unrefined.
"To Miss Niamh Rowan…"
"Get it, Niamh!" Mordred said, his grin audible, even mentally.
"…for having the selflessness required to sacrifice one's wellbeing for the sake of others, I award Slytherin house forty points."
The table once again burst into cheers and Niamh let out a disbelieving half-laugh. "Was it just me," She said, "Or was that more of a backhanded compliment than actual praise?"
Morgana saw Kara tilt her head and exchange a look with Mordred. "I mean he didn't sound surprised, but I'm getting the impression that our Headmaster may not hold you in particularly high esteem." He said slowly, "I don't suppose you've done anything recently that would cause that?"
Niamh rolled her eyes at Kara, "Not that I'm aware of, but it may just be that I'm a non-muggleborn Slytherin and don't have Death Eater parents to be rescued from."
"No, it's not that." Morgana said, "He doesn't like me either. Although that may be because I called him a biased old fart that didn't understand the difference between childish ignorance and cruelty to his face."
"How did you make Head Girl?" Niamh asked in disbelief. "And why on earth would you say that to his face?"
"If she called out Uther to his face and didn't back down even after he locked her in the dungeons then I don't know why you think she'd hesitate to do it to Dumbledore." Mordred said, scoffing.
"You did what?" Niamh's shock was palpable, and Morgana could deny the thrill of pleasure she got from the trickle of admiration that was also present.
"Go Morgana!" Kara said drolly, "That explains so much."
"And as for how she got the Head Girl-ship - McGonagall and Snape both think she's brilliant, and Dumbledore's probably the only staff member that doesn't like her. She stamped out most of the bullying within Slytherin and even got the hostility towards other houses to go down by the time she reached fifth year. She was the obvious choice for prefect, and I heard Flora Brown telling Chandra Patil that she and the other two prefects would have turned down the Head Girl-ship if it had gone to one of them instead of Morgana."
"Really? I didn't know that." Morgana said, warmed by the fact that the three prefects had such faith in her.
"Always so surprised." Mordred teased, but Dumbledore began speaking again before she could respond.
"To Miss Emma Ambrosius…"
The four of them immediately looked at the reborn version of their old friend, wondering what she would be granted points for.
"… for refusing to abandon a friend in need, I award Gryffindor house forty points."
Morgana couldn't suppress her fond smile and she saw Mordred covering his eyes with a hand.
"Of course, she got points for friendship!" he grumbled, "Fate just loves to tease us!"
"What else would she get them for?" Niamh asked.
Morgana acknowledged the point, rolling her eyes, and turned back to the front, where Dumbledore was waiting for the cheering to die down.
"To Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house forty points."
Morgana saw the bushy haired girl bury her face in her arms as the Gryffindor table burst into cheers, beside itself at the fact that they were now over a hundred points up from where they had been.
Niamh's mental laughter filled her head, and a glance down the table showed that she was laughing aloud as well.
"I can't believe he did that." She said, "I'll give him this – he knows how to word things."
"And finally," said Dumbledore, raising his voice to be heard over the screams from the Gryffindor table, "To Mr Harry Potter…"
"He won't give him eighty points," said Morgana, certain, and pleased for the Gryffindors who had gone from dead last to solidly second in the same way they'd dropped from first to last after the last Quidditch match, "He can't justify giving him twice the amount of everybody else."
"… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."
The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers, chanting the four names loud enough to raise the bewitched ceiling.
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of shouting and applause, "That the new tally stands with Gryffindor in second place, with five hundred and twenty-two points; and Slytherin remains in first, with a new tally of five hundred and fifty-two points, which I do believe is a new house record."
The Slytherin table joined in on the storm of cheers – Slytherin hadn't reached five hundred points in the House Cup since Phineas Black had been Headmaster, and they hadn't been awarded last minute points since before Dumbledore took the post.
Morgana sighed in contentment. She had her offer from the Ministry, Slytherins were finally starting to be seen as something other than the evil house again, and Merlin was back, even if there were some things that still didn't quite make sense. Things were looking up.
For the first time since Morgana came to Hogwarts, the other four Heads of Houses weren't forcing smiles at Slytherin's win, and she couldn't help but think that Merlin's arrival had brought change to Hogwarts.
She was almost disappointed that she wouldn't be at Hogwarts to see what happened next. But only almost. There were other places that needed change too. And Morgana was looking forward to bringing that change, even if it meant dragging it in kicking and screaming.
. . .
20th June 16:11 – Platform 9 ¾
They stumbled off the train giggling madly. Neville had already said goodbye to most of his housemates, and Emma had left for a while in the middle of the trip to say goodbye to Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones and Megan Jones and the rest of her Hufflepuff friends, and then a load of the Ravenclaws including Lisa Turpin and Anthony Goldstein had popped in to their compartment to say goodbye to her a little later. Niamh had rolled her eyes when Draco had grumpily asked her if she was going to go off next and Emma had made an offended noise and poked him when he had grumbled about Potter, Weasley, and Granger saying goodbye a few minutes before they had arrived. A few sarcastic comments courtesy of Niamh had the minor disagreement swiftly forgotten, and it wasn't until they were all standing on the platform surrounded by their luggage that Draco sobered.
"Write to me." Draco said, "All of you. I'll see most of my housemates over the Summer anyway, but I have a feeling that will be more difficult with you lot."
"I'm a terrible correspondent." Emma said. "I'll start to write a letter and get side-tracked and completely forget to send it."
"I'll be too busy forgetting you all exist." Niamh said, nose in the air. "Except Morgana." She nodded across the platform at the Head Girl. "I like her, she's smart and funny and thinks I'm witty."
Draco rolled his eyes at her. "I'm terribly sorry that she hasn't learnt about your terrible ego yet. My condolences."
"My nan won't let me write to you." Neville said, shrinking in on himself slightly. "She doesn't like your family and she'd kill me if I tried to sneak letters to a family that bases worth on blood rather than ability."
Draco huffed. "Useless, all of you. I don't know why we're friends."
"Oh, come off it, you love us." Niamh said, slinging one arm around him and another around Neville.
"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself without us." Emma added, linking arms with him.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Keep telling yourselves that." Draco grumbled, without meaning a word of it.
"We love you too, Draco." Neville said shyly, "Even if you don't like to admit it."
"Hear, hear." Niamh said, before untangling herself. "I'd better get going, I just spotted my mum, and I still want to say bye to Kara and Mordred. You'd better all still be alive and in one piece by September. In fact – we'll meet up to go school shopping – that way I can make sure of it." She winked at them once before turning and running off.
"I should go too; Nan'll have my head if I keep her waiting to long." Neville bit his lip. "I'll miss you, you know. You're the first real friends I've ever had."
Emma stepped forward and hugged him tightly, "We'll see each other again soon, I promise. The time will fly by."
"Take care of yourself, Longbottom, and if that Great Uncle of yours tries to scare you again, let me know. Our great-grandparents were cousins and I'm sure yours'll be unimpressed by his actions." Draco said dismissively.
Neville grinned. "I hope you have a good summer too, Draco. And why don't we say mid-August to meet up for school supplies. Since you'll probably be too busy before then with all your other pureblood friends."
"Shut up, Longbottom!" Draco said, but there was no heat to it. "I thought you didn't want to keep your grandmother waiting."
Neville's smile didn't drop as he waved and ran off.
"Don't turn back into too much of a clotpole this summer without us." Emma said, dropping his arm. "I'd be so disappointed if I had to put all the work back in to bring you back down to earth."
"Bold words from the girl that lives on a different plane of reality." He shot back playfully. "Don't go blowing anything up, you hear me?"
Emma laughed. "No promises."
"Well don't expect me to visit you in the hospital then." Draco stuck his nose in the air, but did so a lot more playfully than he would have a year ago. He'd never admit it aloud, but he knew that he'd changed since being friends with Emma, and he didn't think it was for the worse.
Emma hugged him tightly. "I'm going to miss you."
Draco let go of his trunk and wrapped his arms back around her. "I'm going to miss you too," he admitted, tears pricking his eyes, "I don't know that I've ever had a friend quite like you."
Emma swallowed loudly. "We'll see each other again soon. Even if my aunt is busy, I'll write my cousin and make her take me to see you."
"I'll hold you to that." Draco reluctantly let go and picked his trunk back up. "We should go, I think I can see your Uncle." He nodded towards where the older man was slouched by a pillar, "And I'm sure my parents are around here somewhere."
Emma groaned theatrically when her Uncle, having realised that they'd spotted him, straightened, and waved at her vigorously, attracting the attention of everyone in the vicinity, "And here I was hoping that he wouldn't make a scene."
"From the little I know – I'd say that was too much to ask."
She chuckled slightly. "Yeah, I guess so." She reached for her trunk, "You'll take of yourself, yeah?"
"Please!" Draco scoffed, "My mother is going to smother me! She hasn't seen me since the Winter Hols."
Emma smiled, "Sounds like fun. I'm sure you'll enjoy every minute of it." She teased.
"I will not!" He said, blushing furiously.
"I'm sure," she said, walking backwards and clearly not believing him, "That blush absolutely isn't the blush of someone that knows I'm right."
"Look out!" Draco said, right before she tripped over her trunk and landed on her bum. He laughed. "Never mind."
"Shut up." She grumbled, blowing her hair out of her face. "Just you wait, I'll get you back for that."
"I'm sure you will." Draco couldn't suppress his smile as he started backing away, "Goodbye, Emma, see you soon."
"You could've helped me up!" She called behind him, and Draco couldn't help his laugh as he glanced over her shoulder in time to see her Uncle reach her and help her up.
The summer had just begun, but a part of him already couldn't wait for it to be over. He missed them all already.
. . .
Fun fact: I already knew exactly what I wanted the seven mirrors to do before I wrote this chapter but hadn't come up with names for them yet and probably spent longer than I should have trying to come up with them.
I have a lot of thoughts about Dumbledore in general and think he's a very complex character, and I have tried to do him justice - but sometimes he makes dubious decisions or rewards people he thinks are in the right at the expense of others or fails to account for the opinions and experiences of others. And I'm not a big fan of that. There's a whole essay that I could write on the subject but it essentially boils down to: Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, and sometimes that really shows. Part of this chapter reflects my opinions on the matter.
As for why the point tallies and result of the House Cup were different - in this version of canon Morgana has been Head Girl for a year and everyone knows that she's not shy about calling out bullshit and isn't afraid to start something if she thinks things are unfair (much like Merlin/Emma). Dumbledore knows this and even though he doesn't really like her, he also doesn't particularly want to get called out by the Head Girl in front of the whole Hogwarts population so he errs on the side of caution.
(Side note: I nearly forgot to add in Emma's points and only noticed it on the second round of editing - that could have been embarrassing.)
The spell used in this chapter "Endiaþ" is more or less the Druid's equivalent to the finite spell. It's Old English for the imperative form of "end" or "destroy".
This is the end of book one. By almost unanimous advice, the next book will be posted as a separate fic. I'll be posting the prologue and first chapter of that as soon as I've finished posting this one, and as you might have noticed, the series will now be called "Oh Merlin!". I'll be changing the title of this fic to be "Merlin, Trouble, and the Third Floor" shortly and updating the summary so that its accurate to the first book only (the former summary will now be the series summary). The next fic is called "Merlin and the Mistaken Assumptions".
As always, you can find me on tumblr