AN: Happy New Years! I hope you had great Holidays and that you are in good health. This is a Three Kings present from me to you ;)

I have wonderful news, and by 'wonderful' I mean horrible. My computer took a fall from my desk so now I have to write and post from my tablet. I don't like this. I don't have normal control over my writing in this thing but whatever. Expect spelling, grammar errors and such, around more than usual. I'll try to work with this.

Chapter 37: Revealed!

I was incapable of tearing away my eyes from the freshly printed parchment that hanged from the Minister's hands precariously. They shook slightly with the strain, making me realize it was because of fear and not the insignificant weight of the paper. What the hell was written there about me that had Minchum like that?

"This is tomorrow's paper," The Minister said in a fatal voice and completely serious, but I had no eyes to see his face and whatever he was expressing there. My eyes were glued to the parchment, trying to make out swirling words that I was too far to read. I heard the scrapping of wood on the floor and I knew Dumbledore must have stood up. Though, I payed him no mind. My heart hummed slightly with worried confusion; the palpitations bruising every corner of my chest as Minchum spoke again, furthering driving me into a state that I couldn't quite understand, but tried to keep from affecting me emotionally. "And we can't stop it from circulating."

"Give it to me, sir." I edged forward as I extended my arm, at some point rising to my knees so to be able to reach closer to the old wizard. My legs were tangled under my bed covers, but that didn't really matter.

I could see hesitation in the Minister's eyes as he directed his stare to the side of me where Dumbledore stood, and it made me have to push down a wave of worry even when the thought of remaining calm danced across my head. Was the article written about me bad? Was it good? Would it really cause problems? Was the Minister hesitating just because he didn't want me to read it? There was little point to that now that he showed it to me. If he wanted me to remain ignorant he should had kept it from me. Not that my ignorance would last long. If it was the Daily Prophet, I will find out sooner or later.

A flip of sudden nausea had my lower lip quivering in less than a second as I waited for the Minister.

Lily read the Daily Prophet every bloody day! If as Minchum said, the article couldn't be stop, and it really did as it claim to reveal the decendant of Merlin and Morgana, then Lily would read it before I had the chance to explain the things I had kept from her, from the guys too, hell from everyone I had come into contact outside St. Mungo's. That is to say if the article contained the truth its title implied. As far as I knew, waiting for Minchum to give me the sodding newspaper, it either told my life's story or absolute lies.

Here's hoping for lies.

The Minister's expression was of grim acceptance, when he turned back to look at me from Dumbledore. Without a word, he handed me the newspaper. And without an ounce of trepidation, but a heavy stomach, I snatched it away, sitting on my feet.

Once more, my eyes were glued to the parchment as I read.

Revealed! A descendant of Merlin and Morgana in Hogwarts.

By Fenetre Clearwater

It has been a tight-kept secret for months, but Wizarding community of Great Britain, a descendant of esteemed and legendary wizard Merlin and renowned dark witch Morgana has been identified as a sixteen year old girl that since last September, has been studying magic in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You've read correctly readers, there has been a descendant of our most powerful and famous wizard in history walking around our country, and the Ministry of Magic has kept the information to themselves. But we of the Daily Prophet pride ourselves on our truthful delivery and in the loom of theses dark times every person deserves to know the absolute truth.

Faraday Ambrosius or Faraday Nolan –as she is known and referred to by Ministry officials– is an adequate young female student who has been shrouded in mystery since the moment she was discovered. Resources tell us that the tale of Faraday begins on June of last year in Diagon Alley, when on Monday the 7th she fell out of the sky and landed in the middle of the street, between Scribbulus Writing Instruments and Flourish Bolts. The cobblestone street cracked with the force of her impact, local witnesses claim.

Cursed with an incurable amnesia, she has been taught magic by no one other that First Order of Merlin and Headmaster of Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore, who –under the Ministry's vigilant eye– took her as his pupil before having her sent to school. Sorted into Slytherin –a fact that should excite readers as her ancestor, Merlin, as well was in the House of Salazar Slytherin– Faraday has thrived as a student, working hard to catch up to the six year curriculum. It's a feat that one personally would only expect from a descendant of powerful wizard and witch such as herself."

However, her time at Hogwarts has not been all fun and games. Since her enrolment last September, Faraday Nolan has made three visits to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, all under the guise of secrecy. It is unclear of what happened on the first two instances –our resources are limited– but for the last one and the most recent as Miss Nolan is as of this date in the Hospital, the causes are twisted. Our resources claim that her emergency admittance to St. Mungo's was the product of an in-school attack choreographed by one other student. We don't have yet the full details; however it springs the speculation of whom in their right mind would dare attack a descendant of Merlin and what the repercussions would be.

We have been informed that Miss Faraday Nolan, descendant of Merlin and Morgana is in a stable condition, waiting on being released back to school. We hope for her well being and are eager to hear from her, for one question resounds over our world, and though we are sure it was the decision of Minister for Magic Minchum, the wizarding world wants to know; why the secrecy?

I scanned the parchment up and down twice before reading it over for a second and then a third time, questioning its very existence. Why was there a need for an article so detailed about my short life to be published? Sure, I understood well enough that Merlin was famous, even Morgana was commonly known as she had a Chocolate Frog card, but what did that mattered when it came to me? I hadn't done anything aside from somehow be born a descendant of those two. Why would someone and then a well known newspaper decide to talk about me? To mention me by name and retell my life in rushed detail, all nine to ten months of it? What right did the Daily Prophet have to release information that I had been denied from telling? And what was the point of me following the Ministry's orders of secrecy when they could go up in flames so easily?

"Fuck," I muttered putting the newspaper down.

"Miss Nolan!" Head Healer Pyek shrieked from her spot by my desk, reminding me that she had been standing there all that time. My gaze went to her for a second, but before I could think of answering something not pleasant at her, my attention was grabbed by Dumbledore. He had moved closer to me.

The Headmaster didn't say a word; he just extended his hand to me. His bony fingers offered to take the parchment from me, and without a second thought I handed it to him. He needed to read it too. I kept my stare on my teacher, deeply interested in watching his reaction. Surely he would be even more displeased than me. Behind his half-moon glasses, his eyes barely glanced at the parchment before he looked back up to the Minister. His expression was the harshest one that I had ever seen on his face and was capable of shaking anyone. "How did this happen, Harold?"

"I have my best team of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and a score of Aurors investigating." Minchum didn't waiver under Dumbledore's gaze. He gave his own stare, not as severe, but with the weight of experience from a long and hard life. Sitting between them was impressive for me, and more intimating that I dared admit, so I watched them in silence like Head Healer Pyke was too. "Fenetre Clearwater and the Daily Prophet have refused to reveal their source."

The Headmaster's brow rose, giving him an air of incredulity that I instantly thought was fake. "And what will be done? This is a serious breach. Faraday's privacy and the Ministry have been compromised."

"I know Albus. This," The lines on the Minister's face twisted with his dark expression, slowly taking away the pleasant old man I was accustomed to and switching him up with a hard-liner wizard that could manage to pair up with Dumbledore. "It is not a good time for me to lose control of this, with my retirement at hand. Maybe if you–"

"Now is not the time for politics." Dumbledore pressed, interrupting the Minister for Magic like it was nothing. I knew Minchum –as well as by popular demand– was pushing for the Headmaster to accept his possition in the Ministry. It was well known information, and like it circulated, so did Dumbledore's refusal to be Minister. "We have to concentrate on finding who divulged Faraday's information."

"The Mulcibers." I said, having enough of them speaking about me like I was on another room. Though of course, that was my fault for accepting to sit quietly between them. Both old wizards and the Head Healer standing more silently than me, gave me their attention instantly as I blurred out a thruth I possibly should had spoken before. "Lorcan's parents were here last night."

"Loran and Arianne Mulciber?" The Minister said, though he was ignored.

"So they were," Dumbledore's dry tone was almost enough to make me feel ashamed, but only almost as he went on. His hands were coiled together in front of him as he had turned to face me, looking impossibly tall standing next to my bed. "And you shared your information with them?"

"Of course not, Professor." I tried to be as dry as he had been, not because I felt particular mean or angry as I did earlier, but because I didn't like being talk to as if I was an idiot.

I'm sure the wizard got my intention, as he continued in the same dry tone. "Then they merely visited to tell you of their son's expulsion?"

"And to threaten me," I tried not to let my voice show what I really felt; how even when I was strong when I dismissed Lorcan's parents their visit bothered me greatly. Even more now as the thought popped into my mind that they somehow were involved with the Daily Prophet. "Mr. Mulciber had the clipboard with my medical chart when he came in."

"Ah." Dumbledore breathed, his pointy hat hangging precariously on the top of his head as he leaned back. It remained firmly placed as he turned to Pyek. "It seems there was a security breach last night and we hadn't been told."

"That's impossible." Head Healer Pyke pressed with conviction, astonished at the insinuation. As I stared at her familiar face, I wished it was true. I was her responsibility and my unespected visist looked bad on the system she was running in St. Mungo's "Miss Nolan is our most protected patient. There are charms placed on this side of the Hospital just for her protection, placed by you yourself, Headmaster. And only Healers can enter the hallway after visiting hours. It's charmed too."

"Yet they were here and in possession of her medical chart." Headmaster Dumbledore said to the woman, who kept her strengh under his intense scrutiny. He then spoke to the Minister. "I believe it would best serve to concentrate on investigating how the Mulcibers got in through the protection placed and who might had helped them."

"Right you are, old friend." With a decided nod Minchum turned to the Head Healer, almost giving me his back. "Wulia, please congregate all Healers and Trainees that are registered present on the fourth floor during the night. Do not tell them they shall be interrogated. I will send for my team to begin immediately."

I'm sure that the idea that someone from her staff helped outsiders get into my room for devious reasons scandalized Pyek, but she hid it well. As she left, her eyes landed on me for a second and uncounsiouly I gave her a small smile. As much as the Mulcibers affected me, I had gotten somewhat over it, and I didn't want the Head Healer to think I held bad feelings towards her. She was one of the few adults in my life I actually enjoyed willingly talking to.

I was left alone with the two old wizards.

"What happens now, sir?" I said but I wasn't entirely sure to whom I was asking, nor from which one I expected an answer. Regardless of the investigation finding out who helped Lorcan's parents or if they would all get repercussion, nothing changed the fact that my information was soon to be public. And in that moment of silence, I didn't know what I was feeling anymore. Initially I had been frightened, but really who wouldn't with how Minchum arrived? Then I was angry and maybe overwhelmed. Like with most matters in my life, I was powerless to stop the reprecusions of this invasion of privacy. But now as I waited for one of the two wizards to answer me, I didn't feel much. I was still sitting on my feet, and that ached so I unfolded my legs under me. After that I looked up to the nearest wizard, which happened to be the one to speak.

"It is time, I believe, for you to come into your full heritage," Dumbledore appeared to go back to a more pleasant attitude. His severe expression had dissapeared at some moment and it made me feel more comfortable, even when his words sparked surprise in me. "It's time to claim your true name. There's little reason not to, if the Daily Prophet will not take back the article."

I took a shaky breath, almost laughing. Why? The absurdity of it all, of what the Mulciber's did. Because if their intention had been revenge, then they unsurprisingly failed. I stared at Dumbledore and then at the Minister. He didn't appear to be amused by the idea as I had, neither did.

"Surely, Albus," Minchum said. "We should wait a bit longer? At least till after the initial commotion of the article settles. Maybe we can even wait out to our original plan for Faraday to come of age. It is not safe for her, under the circumstance that we face."

"Do you refer to your retirement or the rising unrest of war?" Dumbledore directed his newly ignigted severe look toward the Minister, whose face lit up with a tinge of red. It gave me the impression that just maybe he didn't like being reminded of the social and political situation he was facing.

"She will be sought after." Minchum argued.

That put me on edge instantly. Though what he said could mean anything, my mind flew to one matter in particular and I voiced it out to them. "Is there a chance the Dark Lord will want to recruit me? Would that happen?"

I had tried to ignore the talks around Slytherin House about the rise of the Dark Lord mostly because there wasn't anyone willing to talk to me after the shit that happened in the Dueling Society initiation. But many of my housemates seemed to be in favour of him and though the Dark Lord's pureblood propaganda was interesting enough, I didn't have an inclination towards it. I had better things to do; better to study than toast in the common room a wizard I had never met.

Dumbledore eyed me, this time with a scholarly look I was more used to. "Yes, there is a possibility that Voldermort," He stressed the name making the Minister and I shudder at it. "Will approach you, one way or the other, after this publication."

"Just because of my connection to Merlin?" I did not like the way my voice sounded small as I questioned my teacher about something I already knew.

"Indeed."

I tried to suppress a shudder, but I wasn't able to and the two wizards saw.

"Then we should wait." The Minister insisted.

I looked to him, trusting in the confidence I though I head in his voice and the stern sureness on his face. Then my eyes landed on Dumbledore, who held no answers of ignorance in his face.

"Faraday, the information is already out there. The Prophet has signed documents that prove your legitimacy if the Mulcibers took your files from the clipboard. Not even Merlin would know, I imagine, why they did that if their intent was to scare you into helping their son. If their intention really was to threaten you, then their actions have backfired." The Professor said, voicing out my same thought in the matter. "Our world knows you exist and they will not leave you to continue your life in peace. After the publication of this article, you will be in the eye of all wizards and witches. You will be a celebrity now, one capable of immense power and influence, should you take Merlin's name."

For a long moment after he finished, I stared. Then I turned to the Minister. "Will I still have the Ministry's protection?"

"It is yours for as long as you wish for it, whichever path you choose." He said in a way that made me believe his words, though not necessarily that I would be safe.

The ache on the pit of my stomach leassened with those words. Worried excitememt spread inside at the prospects of taking the family name. I would be the very first to have it in centuries as well as the only one to use it. At least until I had children of my own, if ever that happened. "I want to talk to Merlin first."

"He's a painting Faraday, what good will it do?" Dumbledore said.

"It'll make me feel better." I was using Merlin to press for time, I knew that and so did the teacher, but I wasn't lying. I did want to talk to my ancestor's painting and it would certainly make me feel better, which was something I desperately found myself needing.

Dumbledore didn't really seem to see it that way, nor apparently would he let my wishes in the matter to be realized. "I know you are frightened by the prospects, and the public assault you will receive should you come into the light, but do you think Merlin's portrait wouldn't be in favour of you doing it? Of you using his name?"

With that argument how could I even insist? And why would I if it killed any sort of doubts in me. I wanted my family name and everything it came with that much was true. I had wanted it since the moment I was told I was related to Merlin.

I gave a nod and that was the end of that discussion.

It was done.

The day before, I had to choose to take my family name, and today between the publication of the Daily Prophet article and the scheduled hour I was supposed to return to Hogwarts, I signed the papers.

Earlier I was given leave from St. Mungo's. I thanked and politely hug the Healers that took care of me and then I was flooed to the Ministry of Magic. I had been excited getting out of the hospital, mostly because I was tired of being there, and I was also looking forward to seeing the Ministry. But I didn't get that. I was flooded directly into the Minister's office and once in there I wasn't allowed out. Things were a blur once I arrived.

The office had been filled to the brim before I got there, a strange assortment of officials and special attendees present. The ones I recognized were Dumbledore, Head Healer Pyek, the Minister and Mr. McPhail from the Office of Ministry Wards. Other than them, there were a sizeable group of Ministry personnel including head of departments, members of the Wizengamot, the Head Auror and various other high ranking was also a score of reporters and a handful of random representitives from other magical communities of the world. I thought that was a bit much when I was told, but my status as sole decendant of the Prince of Enchanters himself merited it, I guess.

When the introductions were done, I was asked to sign a paper, a higly important one that reminded me much of the one I signed to secrecy during the Summer. Only that this one was the opposite. That one had hid me from the world, this one was presenting me to it, officially and irrevocably. Signing this one was me taking my heritage and family infull once and for all, as well as taking my true name.

No longer would I be Faraday Nolan. I was to take Merlin's name, the one he chose for himself when he too appeared out of fucking nowhere in the Middle Ages. Faraday Ambrosius from now own. The family name came with deeds to abandoned and forgotten lands up north and finally, a Gringotts vault key.

After an array of questions from the reporters that I didn't answer because I wasn't given the time or permission to do so, I was left alone in the Minister's office.

In a few minutes Dumbledore and Pyek will be rejoining me to take me to Hogwarts via sideway- apparition, so I just sat behind Munchum's desk, waiting.

Now that I had signed away the need for me to lie about who I decended from and how I had come unto the world as far as I knew, I was excited. The feeling crawled all the way up from my feet to my head, flipping everything it came into contact with and shaking my core. I was not looking forward to all the comparisons to my ancestors I was sure I would suffer, but to finally be free of keeping a lie almost made it worth it. I squiermed in the seat with delight. What would my dormmates say? Shit, what would my housemates say? They surely will be surprised to learn that I directly descend from our most famous wizard.

I did know what Lily will say, after the hex she'll probably send my way from keeping the truth from her. I shook my head, my hairbun bobbing from side to side. Lily wouldn't hex me, I think. She will probably say something profoundly beautiful and forgive me. Yeah.

Of the boys, well James and Sirius will most likely congratulate me or something. As well as Peter and Remus. They would surely find it fascinating and funny.

My thoughts were interrupted when the door opened slowly. I jumped from the seat, not because I though I was caught doing something wrong, but because I was elated that finally I was to go back to school. That happiness didn't last long. My hands froze on top of the Minister's desk as I recognized who was at the door.

She was alone, but the way she entered and quickly close the door behind her didn't calm the shaking in my stomach. After her green eyes scanned the room, making sure we were alone, Mrs. Mulciber smiled. It was beautiful, the gesture lit up her gorgeous face and the room like only the sun was capable of lighting up the world.

"Miss Nolan." She was dressed as rich as I knew she was, in silver robes exquisitly embroidered and she looked at me like I was her favorite person in the world. For a second, just a second, I basked in her attention, my insides burning up with a strange glee. Then I remembered whose mother she was and what she had said to me before, and that was enough to kill whatever strange feeling I had because of her or towards her.

"It's Ambrosius now." I clarified her, not amused with her arrival. "And you are not supposed to be here, Mrs. Mulciber."

She clapped her hands in front f her, taking a step forward, the smile never leaving her face. Her skirts glided gently around as her model like frame stood dignified in ways that even Mafalda would find herself envious of. I certainly was, even as I tried to look angry towards the woman. "I just need a moment, ma chérie."

My hands unfroze and I took them off the desk as I was taken by surprise by Mrs. Mulciber's open, polite and kind attitude. For another second I felt warmth inside of me, the good kind, but that died I could think of was of her expression last night and the hate she had held sorely for me. She had drastically changed. It was overwhelming and it made me feel somewhat childish compared to her. Not that I could compare myself to her, she was like a radiant matured sun. "W-what is it?"

"I came here to talk, only that." She said through her thick accent with hesitation, respect and patience; beautiful regret adorning her expressions. "What my son did, it was impardonnable. Not to be for-given. I know that now. We all do. And I hope for one day, that you will par-don us for the insult our family committed against you."

And it all crashed even more violently in my head. How could it even skip from my mind that this was the woman that bore, birthed and raised Lorcan Mulciber? He too had been like the sun to me once, and that only served to pester my existence. "Last night—"

"It was a mistake, ma chérie."

Again with the sweet sounding word. It beated horribly against something inside of me, and the intrusion stur me further. "You and your husband threatened me! And took my medical file. I know it was you who sold me out to the Daily Prophet."

"We had not intended—"

Her voice had been as collected as before, but my interruption waived her and her expression broke with panic as I spoke. "What? Did you not intend for your stupid plan to blow up in your face? What was the plan anyway? Didn't your husband read my file before he handed it away? Putting my legendary legacy under the limelight seems like a moronic way to get revenge on me."

"You are angry, I know this." She stressed every word, but whether it was to make me understand or the product of English not being her mother tongue, I don't know. "In our haste, we made a mis-take."

"Just one? Last night was messed up too." A lingering and disgusting wave went up and down my throat. Her words were heartbreaking, not to me for I no longer cared, but for the poor bastard she had brought into the world. I didn't have a mother as far as I knew and watching Mrs. Mulciber I was strangly glad. Better to be motherless than have a back stabbing wench like her for one. "You came to me claiming for Lorcan and now you're throwing him under the train."

"Ma chérie," She tried again, like the endearment would mean something to me, sticking a cord somewhere inside of me. No way. I didn't even know what it meant! "Lorcan did bad. We did bad, but—"

"Dumbledore and the Minister will be back shortly," I cut her words off as chilling as possible, actually glad that it wasn't hard at all. "I suggest you leave now, Mrs. Mulciber, if you don't want to get yourself and your precious family in more trouble."

Her eyes, even at the other side of the room shone brightly and beautifuly, desperate and in conflict, a muffled version of that last devestating stare her son had given me just before I fell down the stairs. She knew she had lost, that she couldn't do anything, not for herself, her husband or Lorcan. I had defeated her and her model-like body deflated as her mouth twisted to try to form words she wouldn't end up saying.

Head held high and shoulders impossibly straight, Mrs. Mulciber turned around to leave.

I tiptoed through the sixth year dorm, Gemma, Hestia, Gertrude and Mafalda sleeping comfortably in their beds, unaware of my arrival. They wouldn't wake, not when my footfalls were barely audible, not with the peace the night offered. It was dark, but I knew the way to my bed better than I knew anything else.

The prospects of sleeping on my own bed sparked in me an exhaustion I had not felt in St. Mungo's, yet I was sure that the Healers there would had loved. Dim green light shimmered from a nearby window, not quite lighting my bed, but making it even more appetizing none the less. My eyes burned slightly, and my nose threatened to begin to water. I was home; finally, free of Healers and Ministry officials, and completely free to do whatever I wished. I wanted see my friends, even if I had no choice but to explain all that had happened to me. I wanted to go to the Library with Lily and study until being thrown out. I wanted say hello to my dorm mates or smile at my housemates, though I was sure they would all eye me strangely. I wanted to go to class, more than anything, and go insane between writing rolls of essays and visiting professors in their offices. Hell, I craved for a full moon so as to run with Remus, Sirius, James and Peter; to lose all control and walk the Forbidden Forest with the pack, unchained and without a care.

I sniffled and pulled back the tears for I had little use for them now. Now my bed waited. I kicked my shoes off gently and pulled my outer robes off me to crawl between my bedcovers.

I had spent close to an hour speaking to Merlin outside Slytherin House, and though my spirits were up and sleep called, there were echoes in my mind of the conversation we had. There was the normal amount of talk of studying and classes. The portrait was adamant of making sure I hadn't forgotten my mission in catching up to the school curriculum and working on remembering the knowledge he hid in our blood, not that he needed to. There was also talk of me researching potential protection now that my connection to him was known in our world, and in school. But that was a thought I decided to save for later, for when I had met with my friends and I had classes under control.

So long as I was back in Hogwarts, I thought, I was safe being Merlin's descendant. The thought was so laughable that a chuckle escaped me just when my head touched my pillow. After that there was nothing else, but pleasant sleep.

...