Harry rolled over and groaned. Last night's spirits were drilling a hole into his head: dehydration as Hermione would put it, a wicked bitch of a hangover as her husband would. Light snoring continued on beside him, so at least he hadn't gone home alone this time. He stumbled his way over to the bathroom to prepare for the day.
After a shower and a shave, and a few tender moments cradling the edge of his toilet, he was ready to 'protect the magical world'.
"Good morning," the woman in his bed said when he emerged. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." He began tugging up a pair of pants. "I've got to get to work."
"And what about my interview?"
Harry glanced up at her. She was a blonde woman, with round features and not much else to describe given the way she was holding up the blankets to her neck. He racked his brain for a moment to try and recall her name but came up short.
"After," he said. "I gotta go."
He snatched up the plain brown t-shirt he'd worn the day before and snagged his robe from the hook it always magically returned to after being removed. His place was a bit of mess, but he'd managed to keep it at a "busy bachelor" level of uncleanliness, rather than the "disgusting slob" level which had left him sleeping alone on several occasions. Just before he slammed the front door, the woman called out again.
"See you tonight!"
"Right," Harry muttered. He shut the door. "Yeah, right."
A few steps away from the entrance brought him past the protective wards of what was once his god-father's home, and with a crack he apparated. The world changed from a dingy neighborhood that was losing the battle against weeds and decay, and turned to a prison cell made of oak, brass, and general haughtiness.
The Minister of Magic's office hadn't changed much in the government's history. Most of its fixtures were stuck onto the walls with ancient magics that even Harry didn't feel up to messing with, not without being assured that the various bureaucrats who worked in the building wouldn't mind him demolishing the place in the process anyways. The air smelled of incense and old books.
"How many times have I told you not to do that?" Hermione hissed. This was her office, and portraits of various Ministers of Magic that had come before her stared down at him with disdain. "It's completely unprofessional!"
"Fix the wards." Harry shrugged. "Then I won't be able to."
Hermione grit her teeth. If the Ministry of Magic, or literally any wizard or witch willing to work with them, were capable of keeping him out, they'd have done so years ago. But they weren't, so he did as he pleased.
Hermione was wearing a dark maroon robe that was rather plain, but shimmered in the light and seemed to almost glow with magical energy. When she'd first taken the position, she'd tried to stick with her preferred muggle office garb, but all that had done was earn her pushback on issues that already didn't need it. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun that belied its usual bushy nature. She forwent makeup, but they were both still young, and Harry wondered if she'd be able to keep up her refusal to enhance her appearance as the years went on.
His former friend tossed a roll of parchment at him. "Here's your next assignment."
Now that was a surprise. Usually he showed up, got told off for posing a threat to the leader of the magical world by ignoring their wards, then was shoved off into the closet of an office he called his own to twiddle his thumbs for eight hours. He began to unfurl the document, and to his surprise it was in Goblin.
"Got a translator?" he asked. "Or a translation dictionary? Preferably one with pictures?"
"It's a job." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Gringotts has asked us to retrieve an object from a Mesoamerican crypt in southern Mexico."
"What's the pay?" Harry asked. "Usually they like to go private for their curse breaking."
"You will get ten thousand galleons." Harry's eyes widened. "And our country will have our debts wiped clean."
Harry managed to refrain from whistling, but his mouth did hang open just a tad. It had been a while since he'd convinced Ron, let alone Hermione, to come for a drink with him, but even back then the studious woman had been ranting about how it was impossible to stop the government from bleeding funds in various bouts of public work in the wake of the war they'd won.
Whatever he was gonna grab, the goblins wanted it bad.
"And the catch?"
"Whatever that is, they kept it to themselves." Hermione sniffed. "If the payment were anything less I wouldn't consider it, but…"
"Well you can consider it done." Harry gave her what he hoped was still a winning smile. "You're the boss, my dear friend."
For a moment Hermione's harsh mask faded, but it only revealed pity and worry. Bile started to come up Harry's throat but he restrained himself from lashing out.
"They've got a portkey set up to drop you off right outside the tomb's entrance," Hermione said. "You have a week to appear, so please take this time to—"
He waved her off. "It's fine, I'll go grab my gear and get going. Britain in the black, here we come."
Hermione sighed. "I hope you realize if you were anyone else I'd tell you off." Harry snorted, she had no problem telling him off any other day of the week. "But here."
She held out her hand to reveal some sort of dull, cloudy crystal. He took it from her and rolled it over in his palm, getting a feel for the goblin's portkey.
The magic other species practiced always fascinated him. Many creatures were limited in the varieties of magic they could produce, with the benefit being that their spells were much more potent and could oftentimes break the laws of what human magic could do. Some species though, house elves, goblins, and some supposedly extinct beings, had very little they could not perform.
Hermione made to say something else, but with another crack he was back in his neighborhood, just a few steps away from his front porch. The tension in his shoulders faded away, he lifted his head high, and for the first time since his last real job he felt excited.
When he opened the door, he was greeted by the smell of coffee and some sort of cleaning solution.
"Oh!" The woman from before was wearing one of his button-up shirts and was in the process of tossing a box of leftover Chinese food, that he was definitely going to have eaten at some point in the future, in the trash. "You're back earlier than expected."
Harry sighed. "Listen, lady, I-"
"It's Luna, actually." She gave a dreamy smile. "Not 'lady.'"
Harry paled. 'Merlin,' he thought. 'Please tell me I didn't sleep with my ex-wife's best friend.'
Luna laughed. "It's even better the second time. I suspected you didn't remember, given the lack of a good morning kiss, but this confirms it."
"Luna, I…"
He really didn't know what to say.
The years after the war hadn't treated his relationships particularly well. He'd kept up with Hermione and Ron, for the most part, but that was due to the fact that they worked together in the ministry. He and Ginny had spent a great deal of time together, but that went about as well as dumping water on a grease fire. As for the rest of the Order? Or even Dumbledore's Army? They'd all been desperate and happy to go back to the normal life that they deserved to live.
"Coffee?" Luna asked. "I brewed a full pot thinking you'd be away for a while, but I figure that will serve us just fine. I haven't managed to find any biscuits to go along with it, but if you have any, I'm sure you'd say you're welcome to them."
"I'm sorry, I can't stay." Time for a maneuver that worked every time. "The Ministry needs me for a job, and I don't have time to dally."
If there was one non-magical skill the Boy Who Lived had mastered since his time in the war, it was avoiding difficult conversations.
"I'll come with you." Luna sat down the pot of coffee and pulled her hair behind her ears. "You owe me an interview, mister."
"Listen, I promise I'll get back to you when this is all settled, but you can't come with me." Perhaps that was another skill, breaking promises. "It's too dangerous."
"I'll have you know I once faced off against Death Eaters in a war for freedom," Luna said. Harry's eyes began to widen and a blush struck his cheeks as she undid the buttons of her, or rather his, shirt. "I was even friends with Harry Potter himself." She gave him a teasing smile. "You don't have to worry about me."
He tried to think of something to say, but was still too distracted by her form as she sauntered towards him. It seemed he wasn't the only one who picked up some tricks in their time apart.
"Luna, listen, this is an official bit of ministry work, I can't just…"
He trailed off as she pressed herself up against him. It was obvious she was trying to manipulate him, but god did he want to be manipulated by her at the moment. She ran her hand up the side of his neck, tracing an old scar (A souvenir from a nasty bit of monster slaying that had nearly made his legendary nickname a bit ironic) till it ended at the edge of his jaw, then kept it going until her fingers were running through his hair and pulling his head down to meet her's so that their foreheads touched.
"How about you just talk to me while you get ready to go?" she asked. "You get dressed up in your fancy auror gear, I try to find something that won't be too…" Luna glanced down at herself and Harry's eyes couldn't help but to follow the gaze. "Distracting. Hm?"
"Fine." He swallowed. "But that's all."
"Of course," she purred. "I'd hate to stand in the way of my hero and his next great adventure."
"You're going too far." He pulled himself away and stomped off towards his bedroom. "Just ask your damn questions."
He hated being called a hero. He hated being called most things that people labeled him as, even if he refused to do anything to dissuade them of the notions. Heroes weren't real, he just liked helping people. He wasn't a legend, they weren't real either. A lot of people liked to call him a disappointment, but he wasn't about to deprive them of their sense of superiority born from a desperate need to cling onto figures who could never possibly live up to their expectations.
"What have you been up to these past five years?" Luna asked. "We all know about your brief stint as the star seeker in the national team, but what happened after that?"
Harry shook out his satchel. Dragon leather and gold straps, it had been a gift from his former mother-in-law who somehow always managed to redistribute the wealth her children tried to shower her with back on to others. After shuffling with the keys in his pockets for a moment, he retrieved the one that would open his night stand and reveal his drawer containing a catalogue of various magical items. A gift from Ron.
"I became a government employee." He started snagging stuff off the interdimensional shelves and shoving them into the satchel. "Ten, typically sequential, days a year I go off on some job the Ministry decries as too dangerous for the real aurors, and the other three-hundred and fifty-five I sit on my ass and contemplate independent contracting."
"Why not do something else?" Luna asked. "Between the fortunes you've earned and the familial wealth you inherited, you could come up with a new hobby every month without missing rent."
"I don't pay rent."
"It's just an expression."
Harry sighed. "Call me a patriot."
"I've called you dirtier things than that in the past twenty-four hours. Why don't you give me the real answer?"
"Fine." Harry stood and turned. "You want to know the truth? Then the truth is that the ministry only sends me out when they think whatever they're asking me to do is suicide. Why do they do that?
"Because it's what I want. I don't want to go out on the beat and catch low-level thugs trying to make a quick buck peddling illegal potions. I don't want to figure out complex bits of magic that farmers find beneath a few layers of soil. I don't want the safe, day-to-day life the rest of you fucking survivors do. All I want, is to feel alive."
He had moved across the room till his nose was nearly touching hers. Her eyes were staring into his own without missing a beat, and Harry sneered back at her.
"Any other questions, Miss Lovegood?"
"Do you want to have sex again?" Harry blinked. "You've got me quite excited."
He spun away and waved his hand. "Go away. The thrill of seeing a former classmate naked has worn off."
"Oh, come on." She wrapped her arms around him. "Are you trying to tell me you've grown tired of seeing pretty women with their tits out."
"I've grown tired of seeing you." Her line had almost worked, but he was more than ready to burn bridges. "Go away, Loony."
"You're supposed to say my last name too, otherwise it just sounds like a pet name."
He tried to whirl around but her arms held him tight, and she giggled at the attempt.
"Come on," Luna said. "I'm just teasing you, relax."
"Luna, I have to get ready for some expedition that's apparently worth wiping magical Britain's entire debt to Gringotts, so please just leave me alone."
That was apparently enough to surprise and loosen her grip, thus allowing him to get back to packing. He'd collected the unbreakable potion vials he'd need and some half-sized daggers made of metals that various creatures across the world were weak too. Next was his invisibility cloak, two spare wands, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses matched to his own prescription that would allow him to see through illusions.
Then he had to deal with his outfit. He quickly undressed, completely unashamed despite the one-woman audience, and before long he was ready. The first layer was mostly muggle things: boxers, a thick pair of stretchy jeans, and a flannel shirt. After that came his 'fighting' robes, enchanted with a few wards to prevent normal wear and tear and stains, as well as some protective charms which he'd rarely found useful against the sorts he came up against. Finally, his cloak, a heavy stretch of waxed and oiled manticore skin that both repelled physical attacks, and kept him perfectly temperate.
"You look like quite a hero," Luna said. "You've really got the whole 'rugged, manly-man' thing down there, Hare."
"Hare?"
She shrugged. "You called me Loony, I figured I should come up with something for you."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he was too tired to respond. Physically he was fine, but seeing his former wife's bridesmaid try to seduce him had left him feeling like the bottom cauldron in the spare stack of potion's class.
"Please just leave me alone," he said quietly. "I just want to do this job, then get back to drinking and whoring."
"Are you calling me a whore?" Luna asked, an eyebrow cocked. "I'll have you know I used my history with you to get you to get into your bed, not my body."
"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"
"No."
"Why?" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Why won't you people just leave me alone until some new dark lord comes to town, then dig me out of whatever hole I'm buried in to deal with it?"
Luna didn't answer. Instead she began to pick through his closet like it was her own and dressed herself in clothes that didn't quite fit, but somehow suited the starry eyed woman. She'd never been one for propriety.
Now that he was more awake, and she was less covered, it was easy to see the years had been kinder to her than him. She didn't have the scars littered across her body that he did. Her skin had a healthy tone to it, on the paler side but not the same malnourished pallor that his was. She certainly didn't leave much to be desired with her figure, either.
"I won't leave you alone because I miss you. We miss you." Harry blinked out of the stupor he'd caught himself in by staring. She tightened the belt she'd found so that her robe would stay put. "And also because Ginny finally found a new boyfriend that she seems to like, so I figure now's my best chance to toss the quaffle."
Both the news and the expression hit him like a bludger. Harry hadn't pried into Ginny's business since their split, though he'd drank plenty of shots while thinking about her moving on, but this still had him floored. He'd been the one to call it quits, but that almost made it worse to hear.
Luna Lovegood, the least sporty person he knew, making a quidditch idiom was just the hint of a sprinkle on that shitty cupcake.
"Well, if you really like me, then just stay here." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "You should have faith that I'll return."
"I can like you without trusting you, you know," Luna said. "You're not getting out of this one."
"And just how're you going to sto—"
His question was interrupted, and answered, by the clinking sound of handcuffs slipping around his wrist. He blinked, but before he could pull away Luna had slipped the other half around her own wrist.
"Just like the aurors use," she said. "I 'borrowed' them from Ron. You can still apparate and all that other fun stuff, but you'll have to bring me along with you."
"Or I could just apparate back to the Ministry, specifically the Office of Magical Law Enforcement, and have you arrested for robbing an auror and attempting to kidnap a Grand Sorcerer."
'Grand Sorcerer' was a title that meant little to Harry, or to the government for that matter, but it would still make the charges he'd made up come with a higher sentence. It also helped him pick up foreigners who weren't as familiar with the award's insignificance, and served as a well-traveled avenue of teasing from the locals who did.
"Now that I trust you not to do," she said. "You like me too much for that. You're just scared of actually opening up to someone."
With a crack they disappeared, and reappeared in a corner office which offered a view of a magically produced landscape. A few trophies and awards hung on the walls, a photo of a herd of ginger children sat on an ornately carved willow desk, and the air smelled of pine needles.
Most notable about it all, though, was the Minister of Magic straddling her husband sitting behind the desk.
"Harry!" Hermione leapt up and began readjusting her robes. "You insubordinate, rebellious, pig-headed…"
He began to tune out her ever-growing list of insults and cocked an eyebrow at Ron, who gave a sheepish grin. His best friend really hadn't changed all that much since the finale of their schooling tenure. He still had a messy mop of red hair, freckles that camouflaged his teenage acne scars, and a decent build that made it clear that Harry wasn't the only one who'd seen a fair share of combat.
"Arrogant, rude, bastard!" Harry turned back to Hermione who had finished fixing her clothes but her cheeks were still a shade that complimented Ron's hair. "I swear to Merlin if you even think of… What are you doing here Luna?"
Harry spoke up. "Our intrepid reporter here stole-"
"Borrowed."
"Stole your husband's handcuffs, and is trying to use them to force me into taking her along with me on the job you gave me."
Hermione turned to Ron who had paled. He swallowed and said, "When the bloody hell did you do that?"
"Remember when you and Hermione came over for dinner with Ginny and Stephen?" Luna said. "I had her snag them for me then."
"Ronald Weasley, how many times have I told you to quit showing off your ministry appointed supplies?"
"I wasn't!"
Harry cleared his throat to get their attention and waved his arm, flinging Luna's wrist along with it though she didn't seem to mind. "Hi, guy who needs to go save the country in the lamest way possible here, can someone unlock this please?"
"And you!" Hermione wheeled back toward him and he pulled away. "How the hell did you manage to let her do that to you in the first place?"
"Womanly charms," Luna answered. She beamed at them. "I'm trying to seduce him."
"Can you just unlock the damn cuffs already?" Harry snapped. "Seriously, you're all acting like children."
Ron stood to help but a sharp look from Hermione sat him back down.
"I told you earlier you have one week to arrive." She flicked her hair over shoulder. "Why don't you two take that time to catch up instead."
Harry's mouth fell open, and it took him a second to recover. "How can you of all people say that? You're the Minister of Magic! She committed theft! Attempted kidnapping! Arrest her or something."
"Oh, so nooow you care about who's breaking what laws." Hermione gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Considering the amount of breaking and entering charges I could have you locked up with, you have no ground to stand on. I'll see you in one week, Mr. Potter."
Harry grit his teeth. On one hand, he could do what she said and be rid of Luna. On the other…
"Fine." He pulled out a portkey. "Guess she's coming along then."
Hermione made to stop him but the two were gone.
When the uncomfortable feeling of being sucked through an oversized vacuum ended, he and Luna were standing in front of a pit.
The air was hot and dry, grains of sand tumbled across the tops of dunes surrounding them, and with the way the sun was just starting to rise, he could almost see why the muggle films always gave Mexico a sepia color. The pit itself was a rectangle in nearly the right proportions of a coffin, with a rope ladder staked onto the side closest to them. A man in loose white robes slept in a chair just beside it.
"Oi." Harry gave a gentle kick to the man's ankle, shocking him awake. "Harry Potter here at the request of Gringotts."
The man owlishly blinked at him. "How long have I been asleep?"
Harry snorted. "Fuck if I know. I don't like to wait. Go and tell whoever needs telling I'm here, I'm getting started."
Without waiting for a response from the man, he scooped up Luna in a bridal style and jumped into the pit. He started the feather-fall charm immediately, he'd learned his lesson about not doing that soon enough long ago, and let its strength dip and rise every few feet. They fell like a sheet of paper rather than a pair of bodies, and before long they were at the bottom.
The passageway before them was made of sandstone, or at least he thought it was. Perhaps it was limestone. Was there a difference between the two? A few simple wards were littered about, but it seemed the teams who'd come before him had already dismantled them. Orbs of magical light hung up near the ceiling every few steps to light the way.
"You certainly don't seem quick to put me down," Luna said, startling him out of his observations. "A lady could get used to this."
He tilted her back over onto her feet and growled. "I hope you know I only brought you here to piss off Hermione."
"I want you to know I planned for exactly this." Luna smiled at Harry's shocked expression. "I know how much you hate being manipulated, but I hope you'll forgive me this one time."
"If you get killed, it's on you."
He stomped off with Luna in tow. Thank goodness for elongated cuff chains.
To his surprise, the entire way was clear. All the wards had already been broken, a few spent trinkets and baubles were littered about, and at one point he even had to levitate them over the corpse of some sort of half-decayed bird the size of a horse. It seemed that Gringotts hadn't spared any expense before coming to the Ministry, which didn't surprise him, but still left a sense of disappointment.
There had better be some sort of danger later in the year for him to get his full ten days of excitement out of the job.
"Oooo," Luna whispered. "Look at that."
They'd come to the end of a passageway, and were staring down an ornate, obsidian door. Harry cast Lumos to get a better look at it. The reflective material made it hard to make out, but it looked as though two figures were carved into the surface similar to Egyptian hieroglyphics, but he didn't have the anthropological knowledge to make out the distinguishing features. The two men were standing, each with one arm extended and their palms touching, and looking out towards whoever was facing the door. Or perhaps it was just the way they were drawn, to accentuate their features?
Harry shook his head. He wasn't here to speculate, he was here to curse-break.
"Luna," he started. "I really need both my arms free. Please unlock these."
"Okay," she chirped. "You could've asked me a while back, too, but I wasn't about to volunteer."
He rolled his eyes as she reached into her pockets for the key, but he didn't bother to hide his small smile. It was far too late to go back now, so he might as well enjoy the ride. 'Perhaps several rides,' he thought as she leaned forward to unlock his wrist, allowing the top of her robe to reveal her cleavage. 'When it's all over, anyways.'
"I'm glad to see you were just blustering earlier," Luna said. She started to undo the clamp on her own wrist. "Seems you haven't grown tired of looking at me after all." Harry made to snap back at her but she pressed the tips of her fingers against his lips. "Hush. Just let me tease you occasionally. Not everything has to be a fight, you know."
"Well that's all I'm interested in," he grumbled. "Fighting, feeding, and fucking. That's all I want."
Luna smiled. "There's supposed to be a fourth F you know, and I suggest you use it if you don't want me to exploit your desire for the third one you listed. And don't give me those eyes, again, I'm teasing you."
Harry decided to follow her advice and fled from the conversation, instead choosing to slam his foot into the obsidian door. He'd expected a jarring, shuttering sensation slicing up through his leg but instead the doors slammed open easily. He winced at the sound of the glass-like material clacking against the back walls, but didn't allow it to deter him from entering.
They were standing in a room absolutely coated in hieroglyphics. Hermione would've probably wet herself at the sight of them all, but Harry's attention was drawn to the center of the room where a simple brown marble the size of a golf ball lay. It wasn't giving off any magical energies that would've warned him of curses or other dark magics. There was the slight suggestion of spell work coming off it, but if it did anything more than light up he'd be shocked.
He strode over and tried to lift it. The marble stuck to the ground like it was glued. Harry growled and grabbed hold of his wrist with his free hand, but the damned thing stayed in place without so much as a shudder.
With a grunt he gave up physical attempts and straightened himself to cast a spell. "Merlin's tits."
A voice snickered in the distance. A male voice.
"Who's there?" Harry called. "Hello?"
"Was that a swear?" the voice asked. "I believe you said, 'Merlin's tits', right?"
"Where are you?" Harry asked. "Show yourself."
The marble began to glow. A few feet opposite of him, on the other side of the strange device, a figure came into view.
It was an older wizard, with a close-cropped beard that left everything below his nose covered in thick, grey hair. His nose stuck out like a wart in the center of his face, and his eyes were buried in a sea of wrinkles and smile lines. He wore simple brown robes that looked more like a medieval monk's than proper wizard attire, but there was no doubt as to the bearing of this man. Harry recognized him from the cards.
"Merlin…" he breathed.
"Yes?" the apparition said. "Or was that another swear?"
"Both?" Harry struggled to come up with something to say. "I, well, it's an honor to meet you, I suppose."
"Apparently, if you're using my name to swear by now." The old man let out a snicker. "Honestly! Calling out my 'tits' as though I were a…"
The legendary wizard laughed again. Luna stepped up with a broad smile, seemingly unphased by his presence. "How incredible. When Harry said we were off to retrieve an ancient artifact, I hadn't expected to meet you."
"Well if he's 'Harry', then who might you be, my dear?"
"Luna Lovegood." She performed a facsimile of a curtsy with the mis-sized robes she'd taken from his closet. "I'm attempting to seduce my companion here, and have accompanied him under the guise of wanting an interview."
"I see, I see…" Merlin nodded along as though she'd said anything close to sensible. "Is this Harry fellow something to be desired then?"
"He'll glare at me for saying this, but it wouldn't be inappropriate to call him my generation's Merlin." Luna smiled at Harry and he looked off into the distance to avoid playing into what she said. "He's ended a war that enraptured half the magical world, slain more evil beasts than I can name, and is here today only because the goblins couldn't manage to retrieve the marble you've sprung from. He's the only person the Ministry trusts to succeed in the mission."
"The 'ministry' was it?" Merlin asked, rubbing his chin. "Has Brittania become a theological state, then?"
"No, sir," Luna said. "Just a turn of phrase. The Ministry of Magic is the governing body which leads the wizarding world in Britain, or Brittania as you call it, and he is our Grand Sorcerer. The title doesn't mean much these days, but—"
"Hmph." Merlin crossed his arms. "I'll have you know it was I who once held that title, created for me by King Arthur himself."
Harry finally joined in. "Yes, well, times have changed. Either way, we're nearly nine-hundred billion galleons in debt to various entities, and by retrieving your little marble we'll have that wiped away. So-"
"Nine-hundred billion!" Merlin looked aghast. "There aren't even that many coins in print!"
"Times. Change." Harry decided he'd grown tired of the novelty of talking to a long dead wizard. "Trust me, some places are a lot worse off. Can we please just take your trinket and be on with it?"
"Is that what you wish?" Merlin's gaze bored through him and Harry tried, and failed, not to shiver. "Despite what your mental probings might've shown you, this device that I've created is far more powerful than you estimate. It could be worth a great deal more to you than whatever sort of inflated debt Brittania has worked up since my own times."
"Don't test me, old man." Harry's blood was starting to boil. How long had it been since he'd had a proper duel, a proper challenge. "You want to know what I want? I want to spend the rest of my life fighting for my life with the adrenaline in my blood never stopping. I want to feel alive for the first time since god knows when. I want the iron-clad intimacy that the war brought to my friendships to keep me warm at night."
He stepped closer to Merlin's apparition. "You ask me what I really want? How about you pull your wand and threaten the wizarding world so I can stop you."
Merlin didn't react. He stared back at Harry with a stoic mask, and Harry felt his shoulders droop.
"Or just go back to being a fucking marble," Harry said. "So I can be done with this and go back to what I was doing before."
"Fucking, fighting, and feeding," Luna added. "He's a bit of a broken man, Mr. Merlin, but I do find him quite attractive."
Harry couldn't stop himself, he laughed. Everything about this whole insane 'adventure' was the exact opposite of what he wanted out of those few precious days a year where the chance of losing his life was always right around the corner. The defenses had already fallen, the way to unlock the artifacts secrets had been a bit of mundane swearing, and even now he couldn't twist a fight out of the only wizard he'd met in half a decade that could pose a threat to him.
"I am broken," he said. "But that's the way the cards lie. So just let me throw this marble at the goblins, and be done with it."
"Would you like to see yourself, Mr. Harry Potter, be restored?"
Harry froze. When had he given his last name? "It's far too late to restore me, not without wiping my memories, which I will never allow."
"Of course I couldn't change the path of your current soul, but perhaps you would like to see what sort of man you would turn out to be if you weren't constantly tossed about like a salad in the midst of danger and violence?" Merlin waved his hands, but when he did it there was a sparkling glow of magic that went along with the limbs. "You could see for yourself how your life would've gone if the likes of this…" Merlin frowned. "'Lord Voldemort' weren't constantly affecting your development."
Harry ran a mental scan of his occulementic defenses. It seemed like his walls were sound, but…
'There.' He clamped down on the mouse-like thought that had invaded his mind and crushed it. 'Begone!'
Merlin flinched, but otherwise didn't react to the eviction. "Well done," he said. "It seems your mental defenses are quite powerful, even if your subconscious protectoracy isn't quite as developed as a wizard of your standing should be."
Harry wanted to respond, but Luna cut him off. "Oo, are you reading his mind?" she asked. "Can you tell me if he likes me?"
Merlin smiled. "He's constantly fighting the urge to kiss you, Miss Lovegood, that I can promise."
"Enough!" Harry launched an unspelled bit of magic against the wall which shook the earth around them. "Will you allow me to retrieve your orb or not?"
"Or not." Merlin clapped his hands together, and the world around them shattered into a white abyss that Harry wasn't sure how they even stood upon. "I designed this relic to serve a wizard's true needs, and completing some job wouldn't serve you at all."
"Merlin's fucking-"
"Yes?" With a roll of his eyes Harry growled, realizing how he'd just sworn. "Go on, I'm very curious to see how you've twisted pieces of my anatomy into curses."
Harry was finished playing games. He fell back onto his ass and crossed his arms like a stubborn toddler. "I'm done. Play your games, I'll carve the fucking earth beneath you if needed to retrieve the artifact."
Merlin clapped his hands again, and suddenly they were atop a roof that Harry hadn't seen in many years, Luna nowhere in sight. Every which way you looked, you'd see nothing but normalcy. It was the picture perfect muggle homestead, which meant this could only be one place.
"Congratulations," Harry said. "You've brought me back to the Dursleys'. Got any more tricks up your sleeves?"
"Not just your former parental figures," Merlin said. "Take a look."
The world around them was chillier than Harry remembered Britain being lately. A soft ice was beginning to paint the grass below, and the windows were starting to shade themselves with frost. Stars stood out in the sky above, clearer than he remembered, but giving no clues as to what the fuck Merlin was on about.
"You are turning eleven soon," Merlin said. "Or at least, this version of you is."
Harry turned towards him. "The fuck are you on about."
"Despite the fact that you cleared out one of my probes, several others survived and surveyed your mind," Merlin said. "I took in all that you had to offer, and cleared away the obstacles that you blame your current… Situation, on."
"And how is this supposed to help me?" Harry asked. "Are you gonna show me some…" He suddenly realized that Merlin wouldn't get his A Christmas Carol reference. "What do you possibly think we'll accomplish here? That I'll see myself go through life without Tom's influence and suddenly be appreciative of my current life?"
"I could." Merlin snapped his fingers, and suddenly they were in an unfamiliar mansion. "Or perhaps you would like to take it a step further back. See what your father's life could be like without this conflict."
This must've been the Potter family's ancestral home. From what he recalled, the place had been destroyed in the first war against Voldemort. It was certainly lavish, but it lacked the gold trimmings and other such effects that would've turned it from 'lavish' into a monument of avarice.
At least it was nice to know his grandparents were—
Merlin snapped his fingers again.
They were standing in a field atop a cliff. The wind pulled at his hair and his robes were billowing, though Merlin's form seemed completely unphased by it all.
"Can you tell where we are now?" Merlin asked. "You should."
There was a forest off in the distance, with towering oak and pine trees dominating the landscape. A lake could also be seen a ways away. The thing that finally tipped Merlin's hand though was when Harry took a deep breath, and felt the raw magical energy fill him.
"Hogwarts," he said. "Before it was Hogwarts."
Merlin nodded. "Indeed. Would you prefer to live in a time such as this, found your own 'House', and experience the magical world before it was so… tame?
"It's certainly the most base of the options. It is exactly what you want. I won't deny that you are a powerful wizard, even if I would've backhanded the arrogance out of you were our times to overlap, but you'll meet your equals in more ways than one in a time like this."
Harry bit his cheek. If this was real, if Merlin, or rather Merlin's artifact, could really throw him back in time like this, he could finally live the way he wanted. He could stand toe to toe with the creatures and wizards of legend. The world itself was still wild and unexplored, with the danger that made him feel alive around every corner, and a complete escape from a world that seemed to be convinced it knew everything about him.
"No," Harry said. "I was told to bring back your marble, and that's what I'm going to do."
If there was one lesson that had been beaten into Harry before and during the war, it was that duty always came first.
"I see."
The world around them melted away like paint dripping off walls, revealing the tomb that they'd started in. Harry was still sitting on the ground, and Luna was still standing beside him, though her eyes were glazed over and her mouth hung open ever so slightly.
"Was any of that real?" Harry asked. "Or was it just an illusion?"
"Both?" Merlin sat down beside him. "It was an illusion to make my point, but it can be real if you choose."
"And Luna?"
"She's still deciding."
"Will you just let me take the stupid marble and get this all over with?" Harry sighed. "Seriously, what do you want from me?"
"I want to help you achieve your wants."
"Well I want-"
"What you truly want." Merlin sniffed and turned up his chin. "I did not create this object to serve the mind's machinations towards what you should or should not do, I designed it to fulfill the soul."
"Then give it to me and I'll give it to Hermione," Harry said. "She's more your type, if Arthur really was a king that you served. At just twenty-four years old she became Minister of Magic, every day she fights for the betterment of magical society, and I know better than anyone that she's pure of heart. If her wishes were fulfilled, the world would be a better place."
"I've already learned that lesson, Mr. Harry Potter."
Merlin waved his hand and an image flashed across Harry's mind. A handsome, muscular, brunette man with blood pouring out of his mouth and sword jutting from his stomach, with another man with demonic features lay dying beside him.
"It is not the most wise, noble, and pure humans who lead the world to greatness," Merlin said. "They are too vulnerable to treachery, too soft hearted to make hard decisions, too weak to stand against the lesser evils."
"Isn't that what men like you and I are there for?" Harry asked. "To stand and protect them, to enforce their decisions?"
Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but Luna began to glow. A soft, green light was emanating from her entire being, and Harry scrambled to his feet as his heart began to race.
"Finally," Merlin said. "At least one of you can make a decision."
"Where are you sending her?" Harry barked. "What's going on?"
"I'm sending both of you," Merlin said. "I'm tired of this conversation."
"Wait, what? No you—"
And then he was gone.