Title: Harry Potter and the Return of Merlin
Fandom: Merlin/Harry Potter Crossover
Rating: T for slight violence and language
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione...or at least the precursors to the relationships
Spoilers: HP - definitely through the end of OotP, since Merlin is supposed to know more than most, there may be other spoilers as well. Merlin - through the end of season 3 because I haven't had a chance to watch season 4, so I can't spoil it, lol.
Warnings: AU. Slight Violence and language.
Beta: the wonderful animeloveramy. I don't know what I'd do without her.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Merlin. They belong to J.K. Rowling and BBC respectively. They have simply been kind enough to allow dreamers like me to indulge in fantasies involving their characters.
Summary: When Voldemort used a spell of the old religion to regain his body, he gives Merlin the reason he needed to step out of the shadows. Disguised as a fifth year student, he goes to Hogwarts to watch over Harry and do what he can in the war to come.
Chapter 2
Harry tuned out Mr. Weasley's prattling. There wasn't anything particularly interesting about regurgitating toilets when his future hung in the balance. Still, he appreciated the gesture.
Across the cluttered office, Myrddin was sitting in the chair that usually belonged to Perkins, Mr. Weasley's partner. He looked unconcerned. His lean figured was stretched out comfortably in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. The only sign that he was as anxious as Harry, was the slight frown that graced his face and the look of intense concentration in his eyes.
Over the past few days, Harry had gotten a good chance to get to know the strange man who'd saved him. He was actually a really nice guy who almost perpetually had a smile on his face. Myrddin was usually up before anyone else, helping Mrs. Weasley with the breakfast. The motherly woman got as much enjoyment forcing food on him as she did with Harry himself. She was constantly complaining that they were both too skinny and pale. Myrddin good naturedly complained that he'd always been skinny and pale, no matter how much he ate, but she didn't listen.
Perhaps what had most endeared him to Mrs. Weasley was the fact that Myrddin helped with decontaminating the house. Harry got the impression that he'd done that kind of thing before. It was the only reason that Myrddin could have dealt with some of the creatures and spells they'd come across.
His crowning achievement in gaining the respect and trust of the Order had come after Tonks, a young auror and cousin of Sirius', had stopped by. She'd tripped over the troll leg umbrella stand. The loud crash of the stand hitting the ground coupled with her loud curses had brought the entire Order running and told Harry exactly why he'd been shushed that first night.
The noise had roused a painting that had been hidden behind a pair of moth-eaten curtains. The occupant of the painting, an old woman with yellowing skin, had screamed bloody murder. Sirius, with the help of Remus and Mr. Weasley, had forced the curtains closed, silencing the old woman. Harry had been horrified to discover that she was Sirius' mother. He'd quickly gathered that the entire Order wanted her painting gone, but that they couldn't remove it because of a Permanent Sticking Charm. Myrddin had quietly suggested that they try vanishing the wall the painting was attached to. There'd been a moment of silence, then, muttering under his breath about how he should have thought of that from the beginning, Sirius had waved his wand at the wall. It had disappeared and the painting had fallen to the floor. Needless to say, burning the painting had been turned into a bit of a party.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still a bit wary of the man. Harry in particular had the feeling that there was something he was hiding, but they'd decided that he was someone they could trust.
The door to Mr. Weasley's office swung open of it's own according, jolting Harry out of his musings as a kneazle-sized dragon came soaring into the room. The creature's amber eyes were sparking with clear irritation. Harry and Mr. Weasley leapt up, both of them drawing their wands and directing them toward the flying reptile. Before they could do anything, the dragon landed on Perkins' desk, perching carefully on a wobbly stack of folders, and leveled his gaze at Myrddin, who glared back at him.
"What are you doing?" Myrddin hissed.
Smoke billowed out of the dragon's nostrils and it let out an angry hiss. "Our esteemed minister has seen fit to move the time and location of the hearing. You have only a few moments to make it down to courtroom ten."
Harry nearly dropped his wand when the dragon spoke. Judging by the look on Mr. Weasley's face, he was just as stunned.
Myrddin's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"
"I have my ways, young one," the dragon said. "Now hurry!"
"Are you accompanying us now that you have made your presence known?" Myrddin queried acerbically.
"It would lend you credibility to have me as a familiar," replied the dragon smugly. Myrddin looked like he was torn between thanking and killing the little lizard.
"What is going on?" Mr. Weasley demanded. "What is that thing?"
Myrddin looked resigned. "This is Kilgarrah. He's a very old, very rare breed of dragon, a direct descendant of the great dragons of the old religion. He is my companion and familiar."
"Why didn't you say something before?" Harry asked.
"As far as I know, Kilgarrah is one of a kind," Myrddin explained. "And he's usually rather private. This is the first time he's ever revealed himself to anyone save me. I'm sure you have questions, but if he says that the hearing has been moved, then we need to get going."
Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley questioningly. The older man slid his wand back into his pocket and nodded. "Follow me," he said grimly.
The dragon, Kilgarrah, leapt onto Myrddin's shoulder and draped himself across the man's neck. Myrddin shot Harry an apologetic look. Harry nodded and the two of the followed Mr. Weasley out of the office. Suddenly, he felt very nervous.
What the bloody hell were you thinking? Merlin demanded. Do you have any idea how hard I've had to work to gain their trust, especially Harry's? They already think that I was spying on Harry!"
You were, Kilgarrah pointed out unnecessarily.
I know that, the warlock snapped. But it isn't yet time for them to know that. I need them to trust me so that I can protect them. Having a bloody talking dragon randomly appear with information about a very sensitive topic is not going to help my credibility.
Would you have rather I said nothing?
Did I say that? Obviously we needed to know that. But why did you not simply contact me as we are speaking now?
There was no guarantee that you would have heard me. I could not risk it, not when Harry's future and the future of the wizarding world is at stake.
Merlin pursed his lips, but couldn't fail to admit that Kilgarrah had a point. He just wished that he'd had a little more warning. More questions would be coming when they returned to Order headquarters. It was going to take some very careful tap dancing to explain Kilgarrah's presence without blowing his cover completely.
He pushed those thought from his mind and focused on following Mr. Weasley through the Ministry. It wouldn't do to show that he knew his way around the maze-like building because he'd been there when it had first been constructed.
They reached the courtroom with just moments to spare. Panting slightly, Mr. Weasley turned to the two young men. "I can't go in," he said. "But I'll be right here when you come out and the headmaster should be waiting inside." He put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "It'll be fine," he assured the boy.
Merlin gently steered Harry into the stone room. It took all of his experience in keeping a straight face when lying to Arthur not to glower and growl in anger. The entire Wizengamot was present. The minister had overstepped his bounds with that. Even more serious breaches of the Statute of Secrecy and the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardy were dealt with by the depart of magical law enforcement, not the ministry and the Wizengamot. It was probably a good thing that Kilgarrah was draped around his shoulders or Merlin would be sorely tempted to unleash some of his more creative magics.
"You're late," Fudge said coldly.
"I didn't know the hearing had been moved!" protested Harry.
Fudge sneered. "That is not the fault of the Wizengamot. You were informed. Take your seat."
He gave Harry a comforting look and pushed him toward the chair in the center of the room before making his way to the witnesses benches. Making sure that his back was turned to the court so that they couldn't see his eyes and broke the charms on the chair that animated the chains. There was no way in hell that Merlin was going to let that bastard minister tie Harry up like some kind of Death Eater.
Harry had no sooner sat down gingerly when the doors opened again and Albus Dumbledore swept in. The old man was smiling genially, but Merlin could see that his eyes were glinting with anger.
"Dumbledore," Fudge said stiffly. "You made it. We were afraid that the owl wouldn't reach you in time."
"Owl?" asked the headmaster pleasantly. "I'm afraid I received no owl. Due to a lucky mistake, I arrived five hours early and no harm was done." He conjured a squishy, comfortable looking armchair and sat down. "Shall we begin?"
Fudge scowled. "Right."
Merlin tuned out the legal jargon that preceded the actual trial and carefully observed the Wizengamot. To Fudge's left sat a square-jawed professional looking woman who Merlin knew to be Madam Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was the woman who should have been conducting the hearing alone. Just by looking at her, Merlin could tell that she wasn't happy about the turn of events. From his observations of her during the first war and during the weeks before the hearing, Merlin had seen that she was a fair woman who would have listened to Harry's side of the story impartially.
To Fudge's other side was a toad-like witch. Just the look of her was enough to set Merlin's skin crawling. He hadn't seen her much in his spying, but he had seen that she was blindly loyal to Fudge.
The sight of the young man sitting at the end of the row made Merlin frown. He couldn't believe that Percy Weasley had turned his back on his family. Regardless of political opinions, family should always stick together. It had worked for the knights, who'd always considered themselves brothers, regardless of the fact that none of them had actually been family.
"You are Harry James Potter, resident of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, correct?" Fudge snapped, sending Harry a glare over his papers.
"Yes," Harry said, almost nervously.
"And your received an official warning for the use of illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"Yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?"
"Yes, but-"
"Knowing that, as underage wizard, such magic is not permitted?"
"Yes, but-"
"Knowing that you were in an area inhabited by Muggles?"
"Yes, but-"
"In the presence of a Muggle at the time?"
"Perhaps, it would be prudent to allow Mr. Potter to fully answer your questions before continuing on?" Dumbledore suggest smoothly, overriding Harry's annoyed answer.
"That does seem wise," said Madam Bones. Merlin was pleased to see that she was shooting Fudge a very disgruntled glare. Clearly, she didn't approve of his handling of the case.
Fudge nodded reluctantly and Madam Bones turned to Harry. "Would you care to explain the circumstances under which you received your first official warning, Mr. Potter?"
"A house elf appeared in my bedroom," Harry said quickly so as not to be overridden again. "Dobby was trying to protect me because he thought something was going to happen at Hogwarts. When I wouldn't agree, he levitated a pudding and smashed it on my Uncle's business associates to get me in trouble."
"Do you really expect us to believe that a house elf used magic in your home to protect you?" Fudge scoffed.
"The house elf in question is employed at Hogwarts, if you wish to question him," said Dumbledore. "It is my understanding that Dobby heard his masters discussing Mr. Potter and misinterpreted their meaning."
That was well done, Kilgarrah commented.
Merlin had to agree. That had been the perfect way to handle the delicate situation that surrounded Dobby's appearance in Harry's life. Dumbledore couldn't accuse Lucius Malfoy of opening the Chamber of Secrets by putting the Diary in the hands of a Hogwarts student. But everyone knew that the Malfoys didn't like Harry. The idea that their house elf had heard one of them idly threatening Harry was easily believable.
"That won't be necessary," Madam Bones said. "Your word is good enough for me, Headmaster. I will see to it that the incident is wiped from your record, Mr. Potter, regardless of the outcome of this hearing. Shall we move on to the events of August the second? Having received an unfair warning from the Ministry, why is it that you performed underage magic in a Muggle neighborhood?"
Harry glared at Fudge before saying clearly, "My cousin and I were attacked by dementors. I conjured a patronus to drive one off after Myrddin Lyonnesse showed up to take care of the one that was about to kiss me."
Merlin thought that Madam Bones' monocle was going to fall off her face. "A fully corporeal Patronus?"
Harry nodded.
"You mean that it was more than smoke a vapor?"
"It was a stag. It's always a stag," Harry said in confusion.
"What do you mean? Is this not the first time you conjured one?"
"I've been able to do it ever since third year when Professor Lupin taught me-"
"Impressive," Madam Bones said, gazing at him carefully. "A true Patronus at your age is...very impressive indeed."
"It's not a question of how impressive the magic is," Fudge snapped. "If anything, the more impressive the magic is, the more severe the crime is. The boy conjured it in full view of a Muggle!"
Harry finally lost his temper. "I conjured it in front of my cousin, who's known about magic since Hagrid gave my Hogwarts letter five years ago!" he snapped. "Aunt Petunia is my mother's sister, for Merlin's sake! They've known about magic since before I did! And I only conjured the Patronus because of the dementors, which I already told you!"
Merlin almost choked when Harry used his name. In all the years wizards had been doing that, he still hadn't gotten used to that. When the young man finished his testimony, Merlin saw that Madam Bones was glaring at Fudge. She'd obviously been unaware of the fact that Harry had used magic in the presence of his family. Muggleborns were permitted to use magic in front of their family, and Harry had been raised a muggleborn.
Seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere trying to use the Statue of Secrecy to crucify Harry, Fudge changed tactics. "Is there even any proof that there was a dementor, in Little Whinging of all places?"
"Indeed there is," said Dumbledore. "In fact, he is here right now."
That was his cue. Merlin stood and walked to the center of the courtroom. The headmaster conjured him a chair. He noticed that he was getting several odd looks from the court. They were all directed at the dragon still draped over his shoulders.
"Your name?" Fudge inquired.
"Myrddin Gaius Lyonnesse," Merlin replied, biting back a grin at the references to his true identity.
Bones glanced at some papers in front of her. "We have no record of any other wizards living in Little Whinging. How is that you came to be there?"
He quickly recounted his tale of illness, explaining how his parents, who'd been vigorous supporters of the light, had been killed and how he'd contacted Albus Dumbledore in order to do something.
"Unfortunately, due to my prolonged illness and our constant travelling, my parents were rather lax in their attempts to educate me adequately," he finished. "The headmaster suggested that I attend Hogwarts in the fall and arranged for me to stay with Ms. Arabella Figg, who happens to be a squib, so you would have no record of her. I had only been there two days when the incident we are discussing occurred."
Fudge waved his wand, summoning some parchments. He glanced at them briefly before glaring at Merlin and practically snarling, "There is no record of your illness at St. Mungo's."
"There wouldn't be," Merlin said. "I was born overseas. We were in India when I contracted the illness. To this day we're not entirely sure what it was. I was never conclusively diagnosed. If you wish, I could swear under veritaserum," he offered.
"That will be unnecessary," Madam Bones assured him, before Fudge could respond.
The minister glared at her, before asking Merlin to continue with his testimony. The warlock quickly told his side of the tale, omitting the detail that he'd actually destroyed the dementor about to go after Harry and that they'd gone to Grimmuald Place afterward. Instead, he said that they'd gone to the Burrow.
"That is impossible!" Fudge roared when Merlin finished. "What are the odds that dementors would stumble across the only wizard within twenty square kilometers?"
"Rather slim," said Dumbledore calmly. "Which is why it seems clear to me that they were sent there."
"All dementors are under ministry control," the minister snapped.
"Then perhaps they were taking orders from someone other than the ministry. You know my opinion of this," Dumbledore said.
"We do not need to hear this bilge once more," said Fudge in annoyance.
"It seems," said Merlin, "we must consider why someone from within the ministry ordered a pair of dementors into Little Whinging"
The toad-like witch leaned forward, a saccharine smile on her face. She fixed Merlin with a falsely sweet smile. "Excuse me," she said in a high-pitched voice that was more suited to an eight year old than a grown woman, "it's so silly of me, but I thought, just for one teensy moment, that you were suggesting that someone within the Ministry ordered an attack on Mr. Potter!"
She let out a silvery laugh that reminded Merlin distinctly of Morgana in it's false sincerity. He regarded her coolly.
"If the dementors are under the control of the Ministry, then that means one of two things," he said. "Either you have two rogue dementors roaming through Britain, or someone within the Ministry is using them for their own ends. Either way, you have some investigating to do."
Fudge turned red. "You have no authority to tell the Ministry what to do!" he snarled.
"I wouldn't presume to," Merlin said. "I'm simply stating that I was confident that you would be looking into it for the protection of the people you represent."
He caught Madam Bones' gaze. She frowned slightly, enough to tell him that she was going to look into it.
"Hem hem."
Merlin nearly laughed out loud, but managed to keep a straight face when he looked to the toad-like woman.
"Did you have a question Ms...I'm sorry I don't know your name, ma'am," he said politely.
"Dolores Umbridge," she simpered. "Senior undersecretary to the ministry. Perhaps you could tell me what that creature around your shoulders is?"
"This is my familiar, Kilgarrah."
"And what manner of creature is...Killgarrah?"
He arched an eyebrow. "What bearing does that have on this hearing?"
"I ask simply to determine where your allegiances lie. After all, if you have managed to befriend a dark creature, then perhaps you are not to be trusted."
Killgarrah snarled quietly at that, but the warlock laid a hand on his tail to calm him. "My familiar is the last of the great dragons of Old Magic," he said clearly. "It is my understanding that he lived for many hundreds of years before coming to me."
"Do you have proof of that?" Madam Bones asked curiously.
"His words should be more than sufficient," Kilgarrah snapped, causing the entire Wizengamot to jump. "I was present during the height of Camelot, when my race was a mighty one. My current size is the result of a spell to protect ourselves after the lesser races of dragons were discovered, but my magic is as strong as ever it was. Need you any more proof?"
They shook their heads in the negative. It was well known that only the great dragons had possessed speech.
"As you can see," the warlock said into the silence, "I am not a Dark wizard. Now that that has been settled, let's return to the matter at hand."
The trial was relatively straightforward after that. Fudge attempted to demonize Harry by brining up his many rule-breaking escapades in school. Dumbledore easily dealt with that, pointing out that it wasn't the Ministry's business what happened at Hogwarts and that Harry was always attempting to protect others. In the end, the Minister had had no choice but to acquiesce. He knew when he'd backed himself into a corner. When Madam Bones called for a vote, the answer was plain. Harry Potter was innocent and his record would be cleared by the next morning.
In the noise created by the departing Wizengamot, Dumbledore stood close to Merlin and whispered, "I was surprised to see Kilgarrah here."
"So was I," Merlin admitted with a wry smile. "But he is rather unpredictable. At least Umbridge will know not to underestimate me this year."
The headmaster frowned just slightly. "Yes. I am not pleased with the prospect of having her at the school. But there is nothing to be done without completely breaking with the Ministry and we can't risk that with Voldemort on the rise."
"Agreed. I will keep an eye on her," Merlin promised. "Good day, Headmaster."
The truth still hadn't settled in, even though Harry had told everyone about his trial. It felt surreal, knowing that he was cleared. At the moment, however, the attention was no longer focused on him. Everyone was listening to Myrddin as he attempted to explain his familiar. Again.
The more Harry learned about Myrddin, the more confused he became. How was it that an under qualified wizard who's spent most of his adolescence bedridden became familiars with such an ancient and powerful creature? It didn't make sense.
Especially when one considered the way he'd handled himself. Myrddin had given the impression of being someone who was accustomed to dealing with politics. He hadn't been intimidated by Fudge, or even Madam Bones, who was actually a bit scary. He'd said all the right things.
Harry pushed the mystery away until he could get a chance to talk to Ron and Hermione just as Sirius heaved a disbelieving sigh and turned to his godson.
"I'm sure this has been an overwhelming day for you, but there are somethings we still need to talk about," he said.
"Like what?" Harry asked warily.
"A little bit about what the Order is doing," Sirius said carefully.
"Not everything, mind," Lupin quickly explained. "That's too dangerous. But we can't keep you out of the loop completely, not Voldemort is after you. Understand that we are telling you everything we can," he said firmly. "We're trusting that you won't abuse this trust."
Harry nodded vigorously, as did all the other students sitting at the table, though Mrs. Weasley did not look happy.
"Mostly, Voldemort is attempting to gain followers," Sirius said. "He's reaching out to old associates, as well as trying to recruit new ones. He's also contacting the giants, werewolves-" Remus frowned at that "-and other dark creatures. We're attempting to recruit them first while alerting the general public to the situation."
"It's not as easy as it sounds," Moody growled. "Since the Minister is being such an idiot, we can't go around passing out leaflets."
Sirius nodded in agreement. He laid a gently, fatherly hand on Harry's shoulder. "This is where we can't tell you everything," he warned. "So don't go trying to put the pieces together, for your own safety. Do you understand me?"
Harry met his godfather's eyes and nodded firmly.
"A prophecy was made near the end of the first war," Dumbledore, who'd been relatively quiet since leaving the ministry, explained. "Voldemort never heard it in its entirety and believes it to concern his downfall. He is rather desperate to get his hands on it. We are trying to prevent that."
Harry knew instinctively that he wasn't getting any more answer than that. He was glad that he'd gotten as much information as he had. The last thing he wanted to do was press his luck, but there was thing he had to ask.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.
"You mean "we," don't you Harry?" Hermione said pointedly.
Sirius chuckled. "I know you all want to help, but there's nothing you can do. You can't go around trying to recruit the other students, not when the Ministry is keeping such a close eye on things. And you can't leave school. It's too suspicious. You can help us out by keeping your noses clean and staying out of trouble so that we have one less thing to worry about."
Though that had been the answer Harry expected, he hadn't thought it would come from his godfather. He knew that Sirius would let him get involved if he could. Of most of the Order, Sirius was one of the few who recognized that Harry had been through things that had forced him to grow up. Sirius didn't treat him like a fragile little kid. If he was telling Harry to sit back, then that was what he had to do.
"What about us?" Fred asked, gesturing at George. "We're of age."
"And in school," Moody snapped. "Which means you act as normal so that you don't attract attention to yourselves."
"Be glad you're involved at all," Molly warned. "If I'd had my say, you wouldn't have been told anything. You're too young to be involved in a war."
"They're involved whether they want to be or not," said Kingsley.
"And if we tell them what we can, they're not going to be sneaking around behind our backs, desperate for any idea of what's going on," added Tonks.
"They can handle it," Sirius said.
Molly glared at the animagus. "You'd do well to remember that they are just children and that Harry is not James."
Harry's mouth dropped open. Where the bloody hell had that come from?
"I'm well aware of who he is," Sirius said cooly.
"Are you sure?" Molly snapped.
Lupin shot a glare at Sirius before turning to Molly and saying in a forcibly calm voice that suggested this was a well worn argument, "We've been over this, Molly."
Looking like she was biting back tears, she stormed out of the room, muttering about a boggart they'd discovered in one of the desks. Harry saw Myrddin slip out of the room behind her and couldn't help but feel thankful. Facing a boggart when distressed, was not advisable.
While staying in Grimmuald Place, Merlin had fallen into a routine similar to the one he'd kept while serving Arthur. He worked his fingers to the bone from dawn to dusk and could be attacked by something magical at any moment. The difference was that Molly Weasley was a far kinder taskmaster.
However she did have her faults. The most noticeable of which was her tendency to baby her children, particularly Harry whom she'd practically adopted. Since the beginning of the summer, she'd been fighting tooth and nail against telling him anything. Merlin had been glad to find that the other Order members hadn't backed her. Those that had been hesitant were the ones that were worried that Harry and his friends would take that information and do something stupid. Dumbledore, after talking to Merlin, had convinced them that saying nothing, especially when the children where in the position to hear something, no matter how hard they tried to prevent it, would only drive them toward gathering information on their own. It had been enough to convince everyone except for Molly.
This war was going to be very hard on her if she couldn't learn to let go.
Merlin slid through the shadows as quickly as possible. By the time he made it to the study with the boggart, Molly was already facing it. She was sobbing on the floor. The boggart had assumed the form of a dead Ron.
"R-r-riddikulus!" she sobbed.
With a crack, the boggart became Arthur. Her sobbing intensified.
"Ridd-dikulus!"
Crack! Dead Harry appeared.
Ignoring the sound of footsteps in the hall, Merlin leapt forward, placing himself between Molly and the boggart.
Crack!
The boggart became...himself. The Merlin standing before him was an old man, older than he'd been as Dragoon. His skin was grey and his eyes were lifeless. The image reminded him of the fisher king, of a warlock so far past his time that he had no life left within him, unable to do anything more than watch helplessly as the world marched on around him.
"Riddikulus!" he said calmly.
The boggart-Merlin burst into shreds.
Keeping his face carefully blank, he pushed his way past the stunned members of the Order. That was going to raise some serious questions that he really wasn't looking forward to answering.
Author's Note: Some of the text is taken directly from OotP or is based of existing text from the same book. It is not mine. It was simply so well written that there was no point changing anything.
I didn't get many reviews last chapter. In fact, I think I got one. But I got plenty of alerts. Please, do me the favor of reviewing if you're going to alert. I'd like to know how I can improve this fic. I'd like to be sure that I'm not getting too AU with this crossover.
