[21]

Christmas Special

And 'ere in mid-December, snow fell upon the castle grounds. A blanket of glistening white and bitter cold, it covered the Forbidden Forest and the towers, the icing on a winter wonderland. The halls of Hogwarts grew chilly, and in the dungeons warm breath crystallized into mist.

Merlin shivered. But why was Snape's office an icebox? The Slytherin common room had a roaring fire, and it was obvious that Snape had a fireplace – it was just behind his desk. But the coals were dim red at best; the absence of licking flames obvious. Snape didn't seem to have even noticed that his fire was on the verge of death. He was too preoccupied with a long list in front of him.

"Will you be returning home for the holidays, Evans?" Snape asked as he dipped his quill into an inkbottle.

"Yes," Merlin said folding his arms. "I'd rather not get frostbite this Christmas."

Snape's lip twitched. He reached into his robes and flicked his wand toward the fire, and the flames roared back into existence. Merlin felt the warmth wash over him and he shivered violently once more before his body began absorbing the heat.

"I think my ears are on fire," Merlin said clamping his hands over them in a feeble attempt to warm them up.

"I can always return the fire to its previous state," Snape said icily and Merlin glared at him.

"And you wonder why some students think you're a vampire."

"Oh, how will I ever convince them otherwise?" Snape spat sarcastically. "Now, unless you have any questions you are free to leave." And he returned to his list and scribbled something down.

Merlin sighed and got to his feet, but paused before walking to the door. "Sir?" he asked turning back the Potions Master. "Are you going home for the holidays?"

Snape glanced up at him. "No. I will remain at Hogwarts over break."

Merlin released a breath of relief. Snape raised an eyebrow and Merlin said, "Well, I just wanted to know if someone would be keeping an eye on Quirrell. He's staying too, isn't he?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "He is not stupid enough to act while the Headmaster is inside Hogwarts. But, be assured, I will also keep an eye on him. Enjoy your holidays, Merlin."

Merlin nodded stiffly and left the office. He was sure Snape would be able to keep watch over the stone, but Merlin still felt uneasy leaving. It wasn't that he thought that Quirrell would make another attempt over break, but the mere fact that he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on the professor made him uneasy. What if something happened? What if an opportunity to prove the professor's criminal activity appeared? Merlin frowned and shook his head. No, as much as he wanted to stay and keep an eye on the DADA professor, he needed to go home.

He needed to check on Silas.

Merlin met Draco at the entrance to the dungeons. "Going home too?" he drawled as they started walking to Charms class. Merlin nodded.

"As if I'm going to stay in this freezer during break," he replied with a smirk. "I feel a little sorry for everyone who's staying."

Draco shrugged in reply. "Theodore seems rather thrilled actually." And his expression darkened for a moment. "Not that I blame him. His father isn't exactly the most pleasant person to be around." He shook his head and said, "By the way, my father throws a party during the winter break every year. Several important people attend, including the Minister of Magic."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like fun," he said sarcastically. A business party sounded incredibly dull. Draco glared at him.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be able to liven things up."

"I—what?" Merlin said quickly as they rounded another corner.

Draco pretended to look shocked. "You didn't think I would invite my best friend? Why Merlin, I'm hurt." And then a very serious expression crossed his face. "You are coming aren't you? I'd hate to tell my father that you declined my invitation."

"Oh, so your father is welcome to the idea, is he?" Merlin asked lightly. The Charms classroom was a few steps away now, a small line of students filing into the classroom. Draco shot Merlin a puzzled expression.

"Why wouldn't he be welcome to the idea, exactly?"

Merlin gave him a look. "Oh, I can think of a few reasons."

Draco grimaced. "Just don't give him a reason at the party. He'll be courteous because there are important people present, but don't test him. I know he's not very fond of you—" and when Merlin raised his eyebrows Draco added, "—which is entirely your fault; you weren't exactly polite at Diagon Alley. But it might be a good idea to give him a reason to change his mind."

"Really?"

Draco nodded and muttered, "For my sake, at least."

Merlin paused, surveying him for a moment. Finally he nodded. "All right, I'll do my best." He hadn't really thought about it, but even if Merlin thought that it was good that Draco was changing his anti-muggleborn ideas his father would have a very different reaction. In a way, he almost felt bad. He was causing a rift between father and son, and though he knew it was for a good reason that was one connection Draco would forever miss.

And it would be his fault.

The bell rang then and they both hurried into Charms.

Only A Boy

The Great Hall was crowded.

Merlin pressed himself against the wall in order to avoid being swept away by the several hundred students who were heading out of the castle and to the train where they would be taken home for the holidays. Draco grumbled beside him, glaring at a pair of Ravenclaw students who ventured too close.

"This is a madhouse!" Draco complained. Merlin sighed and stepped off the wall to join the tide.

"Everyone wants to go home."

Well, almost everyone. He'd run into Fred and George the other day on his way to say goodbye to Korrizahar. The Weasley's were all staying at school this year, although the twins seemed more excited by that prospect than Merlin would have expected.

"Mum's going to Romania to visit Charlie," George explained. "I expect she'd be so panicked about us sneaking off to catch sight of the dragons, we wouldn't even get out of Charlie's House."

"Which," Fred muttered to Merlin, "smells a bit like burnt rubber, if you ask me."

Merlin wondered what would happen if they knew there were in fact two dragons living in the Forbidden Forest at that very moment. And then he decided that he didn't want to know.

"You didn't forget anything right? I'm not running back down to the dungeons once we finally get outside." Draco glanced at Merlin's bag skeptically, as though he doubted Merlin was bringing enough clothes with him. Little did Draco know Merlin had shrunk every single one of his possessions to fit inside his school bag with ease. The feather-light charm he'd put on afterwards was just common sense.

"Definitely not," Merlin assured him and they followed Terrence through the castle doors and into the bitter winter morning. "By the way," Merlin asked glancing around them. "Where have Crabbe and Goyle got to? Don't they usually shadow your every movement?"

Draco frowned. "Don't pretend you miss them hulking around," he said with dismissal. "Anyway, they seem to have finally gotten the hint that I don't want them around." Merlin raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on the matter any further. He'd always thought it a bit strange how Crabbe and Goyle followed Draco around everywhere. Some odd relationship arranged by their fathers no less. In any case, Merlin was glad that Draco had decided to ditch them.

And then he glanced up at the carriages that they were going to be riding down to the train station. Traditionally, first years used little boats to cross the lake but during winter when the lake froze solid that obviously wasn't possible. Next year they would always use these horseless carriages. At least, everyone had said they were horseless.

But they weren't.

Skeletally thin, with black skin stretched so tightly over the bones that every single bump and grove was visible, they looked nothing like any horse Merlin had ever seen. They were taller, gaunter, and had beaks that were clearly meant for a carnivorous diet. Merlin came to a skidding halt in the snow and stared.

"What is it?" Draco asked, trying to follow his line of sight.

"You—you don't see them?" Merlin asked. They were really obvious. He hadn't seen creatures like this anywhere near Camelot.

Draco blinked. "Wait, can you see the thestrals?" he whispered.

"What's a thestral?" Merlin asked and Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right. But why can't you see—" Merlin began but Draco shushed him.

"Come on," and he lead the way into one of the carriages that was still empty. "Look," he said in an urgent whisper. "Don't tell anyone else you can see them."

"Why not?"

Draco sighed. "I keep forgetting you didn't grow up with wizards." He shook his head. "The only people who can see them are those who have seen someone die."

Merlin went very white. Seen someone die?

Draco was watching him closely. "It's considered a bad omen if you can see them," he added with a shrug.

"I can't imagine why," Merlin muttered back.

Draco was silent then, "So, who did you see die?"

Merlin shot him a sharp look. For a moment, he seriously considered not answering him at all. After all, where should he start? So many battles, so many friends lost to the tides of time and war. But in the end he felt like he could reveal one death he had witnessed, one that still stayed with him. Merlin leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"My father."

Draco didn't reply. He didn't get a chance to. At that moment, Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne joined their carriage. Merlin smiled at them, grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to talk about the day the last Dragonlord fell. Their carriage shuddered and set off, and he did his best to ignore the startled expression on Draco's face.

"So, are you going to the Malfoy Winter Ball?" Blaise asked no one in particular.

"Of course," Pansy replied with a flourish. She smiled widely at Draco, scooting closer to him. "It's going to be spectacular."

"It will," Draco drawled. His eyes flickered to Merlin again. "The Malfoy's never do anything half-hearted."

They reached the train station a few minutes later. Pansy linked arms with Daphne and declared they were going to find the rest of the girls in their dormitory and disappeared into the train. Blaise bade farewell too. He wanted to find the Slytherin Quidditch team and befriend them; to give him an edge when he tried out next year, and it was with reluctance that Merlin waved him off. He had hoped that Blaise would stick around, at least then Draco would have a reason not to ask Merlin about his dad.

"Come on," he muttered and he clambered onto the train. There were still quite a few empty compartments, and it wasn't long before Draco and Merlin had one to themselves.

"Merlin," Draco began, the instant Merlin had shut the door. "I—"

"I don't really want to talk about it." Merlin interjected quickly. "It's really depressing and it happened a long time ago—" Seriously, like a thousand years ago "—so let's talk about something else, all right?"

Draco blinked. "Yeah, course." He still seemed rather uncertain though. And then he frowned. "But I thought you didn't remember your parents at all?"

Merlin sat down across him with a sigh. "I lied," he said shortly. "For this very reason. New topic."

"What else have you lied about?" Draco asked in an undertone. Something about the way he said that made Merlin feel uneasy, although he didn't really understand why.

"I—"

"Oh, there you are!" Merlin and Draco both looked up. Hermione was standing in the open compartment door with a large smile on her face. She barged her way inside and took a seat next to Merlin. "Been walking up and down the train looking for both of you."

"Why?" Draco shot with a sneer. "Miss us already?"

Hermione sniffed and was about say something else when she caught the look on Merlin's face. "What's going on? Are you two fighting?" and she shot a warning look toward Draco. There was more than disapproval there, a little more than worry. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Merlin watched his father die."

"DRACO!" Merlin shouted, jumping to his feet. "I said drop it, okay?"

Hermione frowned and grabbed Merlin's shirt, pulling him back down to the seat with a jerk. "Stop it, we just want to get to know you better," she said glancing toward Draco. "You don't talk about your family at all, you know."

"I mention Silas," Merlin grumbled, ripping his shirt away from her hand. He'd told them when he was worried about his foster brother, eventually.

Draco scoffed. "Hardly. I still know nothing about him, other than you are worried about him and he's your foster brother."

"Merlin, we're just worried about you," Hermione interrupted, glancing toward Draco again. She paused a moment then asked, "Did you really watch your father die?"

Merlin glared at Draco. This was all his fault. "I did," he ground out. "Years ago, I hardly remember." Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Well, if it isn't another lie." He groaned and leaned back in his seat. "Hermione's right, we just want to understand you better. It's hard to be friends with a guy who won't open up at all."

Merlin wondered why that sentence sounded so weird. He blinked for several minutes before he glanced at Hermione and it clicked. "Oh, on a first name basis are we?" he said glancing between the two of them. When on earth had that happened? As far as he knew, Draco and Hermione didn't talk to each other at all and yet they felt strangely comfortable with each other now.

"Don't change the subject," Hermione countered with a frown. She looked a little taken aback though, and she sent Draco a small smile. "This is obviously a very important part of you."

Merlin groaned. When had they gotten so pushy about getting him to open up? "Look," he said shortly. "I watched my dad die, and that's pretty much all I have to say about that."

"How old were you?" Hermione asked softly. She put her hand on Merlin's. Her touch was soft and warm.

"I don't know," Merlin muttered. He had been about nineteen or twenty at the time, but that would not make any sense right now. "Maybe five?" he said with a shrug.

Draco was giving him that subdued expression again. He didn't want their pity. "It's fine, guys. Really. I'm fine." He said as though daring them to challenge him on that. "Now can we please not talk about something so depressing?"

"My parents are dentists," Hermione said immediately. Both Merlin and Draco gave her very blank expressions. "They tend to peoples teeth," she explained. "In the muggle world, there are healers for toothaches and they make sure your teeth stay healthy. That's what my folks do."

"Well," Draco said with a shrug. "There are magical healers that specialize with teeth too, so it's not that weird."

Hermione nodded and looked at Draco expectantly.

"Uh… okay. My mother has a crazy sister that we don't talk about. She's in Azkaban Prison." Draco shrugged. "She's a little embarrassed by that."

And then they both stared at Merlin. For a minute, he stared blankly back at them. "What?" he finally said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's your turn, share some random fact about your life or family."

Merlin groaned and ran a hand through his hair. What could he tell them? He grew up in a different time; his childhood stories wouldn't make any sense to them. And what if they figured it out? No, he was being stupid. Talking about himself a little bit wasn't going to make them suddenly realize he was the Merlin. After all, there was very little written about his historical self and what was there was mostly inaccurate. They wouldn't realize he was the Merlin. He was only a boy, so why would they ever suspect anything more? Finally, he mumbled, "I—was raised by a physician after I left my parents."

And then it was Hermione's turn again, then Draco's, and so the train ride passed with stories and confessions.

Only A Boy

Yes, he had told Merlin that he would not be leaving Hogwarts Castle during the break; however, he had neglected to mention that it would be he, Severus Snape, who dropped him off at the Haddocks. Snape had suspected it the moment the train left the Hogsmeade station, long before Dumbledore flued down for a chat in his office. But the strange part? He wasn't furious that this menial task was being forced upon him.

Maybe it was some primal instinct that lurked within him that needed to see Evans get home safely. He couldn't explain that either. Somehow, even though the boy was a constant headache, he had come to worry about him. Even now, months later, he could still recall the panic that had gripped him when he'd learned that Merlin was in the hospital wing. And that was another thing too.

It wasn't often he called a student by their first name.

Severus shook his head and looked up at the large clock on the station wall. The train should be arriving any minute. Sooner the better, in his opinion. He could feel the curious eyes of parents on him, some of them even former classmates of his. He had the horrible feeling that the rumor he was Evan's father was going to wake back up with a vengeance. Especially when they saw them leaving together. Oh, Merlin, if the Daily Prophet somehow caught wind—he shuddered.

There was a loud whistle. He could hear the train engines now, slowing and coming nearer to the platform.

"Severus, what a surprise."

Snape glanced sharply to the side and nodded. "Lucius," he replied. "Narcissa decided not to come?"

Lucius had his long blonde hair pulled back, his black fur lined cloak probably more expensive then everything Severus owned. He twirled his snake-headed cane in one hand. "Narcissa," he replied as the train came to a stop in front of them, "is at home instructing the house elves on how to decorate." His expression darkened. "Those blasted creatures are incapable of the simplest tasks, they need constant supervision."

Snape didn't reply and Lucius wasn't looking for one either. This wasn't a topic Lucius would appreciate a different opinion on, and Snape couldn't provide a concerting one.

"Might I ask why a professor is meeting the students?" Lucius asked, and he sneered. "Dear me, is Dumbledore still having you cater to that Evans child?"

The way that Lucius referred to Merlin revealed that he still hadn't forgiven the boy for his behavior in Diagon Alley. But the way that he said it, it rubbed Snape the wrong way. Snape was here because he wanted to be – and though Evans was a child, he was a very capable one.

"His caregivers are muggles, at the moment," Snape replied icily. "Complications would ensue if they were to pick him up, would they not?"

From few hundred students exiting the train, Snape spotted Merlin walking side by side with Draco. They were deep in animated conversation, but abruptly ended it when they looked up and saw Lucius and Snape standing there.

"Father," Draco said quickly rushing up to him and giving a very small smile. Lucius did not return it.

"Come along, Draco," Lucius said and he glanced carelessly at Merlin before turning away. Draco frowned and turned back to Merlin.

"See you in a few days, then."

"Yeah," Merlin replied. Draco nodded and took off after his father, who was already walking through the hidden entrance pillar. Merlin frowned, some apprehension showing on his face. He sighed and turned to Snape, raising an eyebrow. "So, why are you here?"

Snape almost rolled his eyes. "I am here," he said as he turned to lead the way out of the platform, "to take you to your foster parents. Due to a happy mistake, they were under the impression you were arriving tomorrow."

Merlin blinked, but quickly fell into step beside him. Snape glanced back at him, his school bag the only thing on his person. "Where is your trunk?" he asked shortly, coming to a stop.

"I didn't bring one," and here Merlin smiled. "I've got everything in here." He patted his bag. Snape did roll his eyes this time.

"Why yes, I am certain you have enough clothing for one week inside that bag of yours. It's so obvious, how could I have missed it?"

Merlin shrugged but didn't reply. Did the boy know a shrinking or extendable charm? Or was he just going to wear the same thing every single day? Snape decided he didn't care – or maybe he persuaded himself not to care – and started walking again. Before he went through the barrier though, he took out his wand and transfigured his clothing to the waistcoat and trousers he'd worn on their previous outing.

"I assume you don't have a car," Merlin said as they crossed over into muggle London.

"We'll take the Knight Bus."

Predictably, Merlin stopped dead, an expression of horror on his face. Snape wanted to laugh, and his lip turned up in a half-smile. "Or do you have another suggestion?" he said watching some of the color return to Merlin's face.

"Apparation," Merlin said at once.

"I've told you before," Snape said with a sigh, "you will like that one even less." They came to a stop outside Kings Cross Station.

But Merlin wouldn't back down. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he snapped back, folding his arms. "I might just love it."

"Fine," Snape said straightening up, "perhaps one trip will be good for you," and he put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. They vanished with a crack, the sensation of instantaneous travel warping their bones. With another crack, they reappeared behind some snowy hedges on Mrs. Figg's lawn. It was sanctioned safe point. Snape didn't know the squib very well, but knew that she preferred her anonymity.

He straightened up and took a deep breath. He had gotten used to Apparation now but his stomach still felt a little weak afterwards. He turned and glanced to Merlin, who had stumbled when they'd landed.

"So, how do you feel?" Snape asked with a smirk.

But, to his surprise, Merlin straightened up with a broad smile. "Fantastic, sir." He didn't look the least bit queasy. In fact, he led the way off the property and onto the pavement with a spring in his step. Most adults threw up the first time, so why wasn't this kid on the floor right now? Snape couldn't understand it. "I know the rest of the way, if you want to get back to Hogwarts."

Snape paused and then followed him. "And just what will you tell to your fosters about your sudden appearance?" Merlin hesitated and Snape passed him on the walk toward number nine. "As I thought."

It wasn't a long walk, but it was a silent one. Snape kept glancing toward Merlin, expecting some random question or remark but none came. The boy's brows were furrowed with apprehension, as though he was worried about meeting his foster brother again. They rounded the corner and the house came into view. On the doorstep sat a young boy with a tuft of messy brown hair. He looked up when they neared and gave the largest smile Severus had ever seen.

"Silas!" Merlin shouted and the next minute he'd broken into a run.

"Merlin! You're back! Popeye, Merlin's back!" Silas shouted behind him before running to meet Merlin and tackling him into the snow-covered front yard. Snape came to a stop in the driveway, watching the two boys embrace and roll around in the snow.

"Silas, your jacket!" said an elderly man stumbling out of the house holding a blue winter jacket. "Merlin!" he greeted with a broad smile. "Didn't expect you till tomorrow!"

Merlin sat up, snow in his hair and smiled. "Change of plans, Popeye," he said simply and he ran to give him a quick hug.

"Merlin, come on, let's go put your stuff in the room," Silas said already standing in the doorway. Merlin nodded and let go of the man they'd both called Popeye. He turned toward Snape.

"Thanks Professor, I guess I'll see you back at school?"

Snape nodded. The display of affection between his foster brother and parents warmed his heart. "Have a good holiday, Evans."

Merlin grinned and disappeared into the house.

"Ha, kids," the man, Popeye said with a sigh. He turned toward Snape and extended a hand. "I'm Wentworth Haddock, professor—"

"Snape," he replied and he shook Wentworth's hand.

"Ah, Professor Snape," Wentworth went on and then he wrung his hands nervously. "Thank you very much for dropping Merlin off, we didn't know it was today."

Snape nodded. "It was a mistake on the school's part," he replied smoothly.

"Still, thank you sir." Wentworth paused. "Would you do me a favor, Professor Snape?" He didn't wait for Snape to give an answer, and went rushing on, "Will you make sure to look after Merlin when he comes back to school? The Mrs. and I need to give them up, and I'm worried about their next family."

Give them up? Snape was taken aback. He hadn't been notified that Evans and his brother were moving homes. "Uh, Mr. Haddock I am also responsible for the paperwork regarded Mr. Evan's home situation. We haven't received—" he said slowly, and Wentworth quickly shook his head stopping him.

"We're putting in the request after the holidays," he explained. His expression became very somber. "See," and here Snape realized that the old man's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "Last week, the Mrs. was diagnosed with cancer."

He paused a moment to compose himself and dropped his voice. "We won't be able to take care of the boys during her treatments, and—" he faltered for a moment, before continuing, his voice stronger, "I don't want those lads to see that." He shook his head. "She's not as strong as she used to be, and the doctors haven't given us a good prognosis. They don't need to watch her wither away. They're too young for that kind of horror." He swallowed and met Snape's eyes. "I haven't told Silas yet so Merlin won't know either. Audrey and I decided to wait until after Christmas—so if you know anyone in your records that's a good fit—" he trailed off, his voice cracking.

Snape didn't know what to do. He felt like he'd walked into a brick wall. He and Dumbledore had been looking for a wizarding foster, but the system was horribly unorganized. They hadn't found anyone yet. He put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "I will look after Merlin, Mr. Haddock. You have my word."

Wentworth gave a sad smile and wiped his eyes. "Thank you, professor."

Snape nodded and hurried down the street toward Mrs. Figg's hedge. He had a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it. He could only hope he found a wizarding foster before the boy's were sent off to a muggle foster family that wasn't as kind as the Haddocks.

Only A Boy

Draco didn't like apparating much.

Though it wasn't his first time, he still bent over wheezing outside the gates of Malfoy Manor, doing his best to keep all the goodies he'd gotten from the train trolley from coming back up.

"Come along Draco, your mother is waiting," Lucius drawled and Draco felt a hand rest on his shoulder for a brief moment. Draco nodded and straightened up, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm his heaving stomach. His father opened the gates, the gothic steel perfectly immaculate, their family crest displayed in some intricate metalwork. And ahead, loomed Malfoy Manor.

It was a large home, with more than enough room for fifty wizards and yet only three occupied it at the moment. Constructed centuries earlier, the manor was an imposing architectural feat that ought to have belonged in a Pride and Prejudice adaption rather than real life. But Draco had never thought it strange or odd. He'd grown up in this classy lifestyle, with enormous ballrooms and crystal chandeliers. The small muggle homes were completely alien to him – strange things deserving of ridicule. But after talking to Hermione Granger, and especially the conversations they'd had on the train ride made him wonder.

A small house would certainly feel less empty.

It wasn't long before Draco followed his father into the entry hall, the doors swinging magically open for them. The manor was extravagantly decorated for the holiday, holly and tinsel, wreaths and floating glass figurines performing famous ballets. His father took off his black fur lined cloak and tossed it to a rack, which immediately jumped to catch it.

"Draco, welcome home," came a voice from a hallway, and Draco smiled at the sight of his mother walking toward him. She was looking rather festive herself, wearing emerald green robes with gold lacings. She walked toward him and then kissed him on each cheek. "Come along, I want to hear all about your first term." And she steered Draco out of the entrance hall and into the lounge where tea and biscuits had been laid out on a tray.

"Narcissa, you already know all about it from his weekly letters," Lucius said following them, a bite of impatience in his tone. "However, I would like to know when you became so close to that Evans boy. I seem to recall that the boy's attitude toward the Malfoy family was unfavorable to say the least."

Draco had dreaded this conversation. Yes, he had written his family weekly letters and in the beginning he had complained about Merlin's blatant disrespect for purebloods – despite also being a Slytherin. But once Merlin's words had started working their way into his heart and his opinion of muggleborns started changing he'd stopped mentioning him in his letters. He knew that his parents would be furious if they knew that he'd had a polite conversation with a muggleborn. Or that he was beginning to think that the idea that purebloods were better than everyone else might be wrong. So, he just hadn't mentioned his friendship with Merlin at all.

"Evans?" his mother repeated, glancing toward Lucius. They had taken a seat at the table now, Narcissa pouring a cup of tea for everyone. "Do you mean that boy that was with Professor Snape at Diagon Alley?"

Draco grimaced. "Yes, we've actually become rather good friends, Merlin and I," he explained, doing his best to appear casual. "He—ah—straightened out after a short while." Not in the slightest.

"Did he now?" Lucius drawled. "Is he the friend you mentioned would be joining us at the festivity this year?"

Draco had perhaps lied a little to Merlin when he'd said his father knew and was perfectly fine with him coming to the party. "Yes, he is."

Lucius glanced toward his wife, who nodded. "Well, honey," she said turning back to Draco, "you are free to invite whoever you wish, you know that. I'm merely worried that this Evans will be uncomfortable in that sort of setting – he's grown up with muggles after all."

"Oh, Narcissa I think if that were the case, Draco would never have invited him," Lucius said and he gave his son a look that told him that better be the case. Draco quickly nodded, feeling nervous.

"Of course." Draco took a sip of his tea, taking courage from it.

"He will be your guest, Draco," Lucius said. And then his expression darkened, his grey eyes growing cold. "But do not think I will not remove him should he become an embarrassment. I'll not have filth in my house."

"Understood," Draco managed through gritted teeth. His father calling his friend filth offended him. As Merlin was his first true friend, this was an entirely new sensation but not just that. It was his father who was offending him. He had always agreed with everything his father had said, always idolized his every opinion. And for him to be offended by his father's words, well, that felt strange to say the least.

"Oh, Lucius, I don't think there'll be need for that," Narcissa said quickly, seeming to realize that her son was bothered by the slight. "I'm sure he'll take responsibility should the need arise."

"You both ought to treat him with more respect," Draco mumbled, unintentionally saying his thoughts out loud.

"What was that?" his father snapped, having clearly heard him. Draco met his gaze evenly.

"Nothing." He wanted to tell them how Merlin had killed a fully-grown mountain troll without so much as waving a wand, but he had a secret to keep. He pushed away his half-drunk tea and got to his feet. "I'm going to my room to unpack." And he left his parents to stare after him.

Only A Boy

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Merlin watched as Silas quickly made his bed and then sat down on it, his feet kicking in the air. He blinked at the question and paused one second too long before answering.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you keep asking?"

Merlin sat down beside him. Now that he saw Silas he couldn't think of any reason to be worried. But— "Well, how have you been? What's your school like?"

Silas shrugged awkwardly. "Oh, that's boring." He paused another moment and then turned to Merlin, his eyes shining again. "I want to hear how you've been. I know you didn't put everything in your letters."

"You first," Merlin pressured. "Come on, I'm worried about you." Was school hard for Silas? Was he making friends, doing well in class? Merlin put his hand on Silas' shoulder, doing his best to be reassuring. "You didn't write about how you're doing at all and I—" Merlin trailed off, unsure what to say.

"There just wasn't much to talk about," Silas finally said with another shrug. "The classes are boring, the uniform is boring, school is boring." He heaved a sigh and shook his head. Merlin saw his fists clench. "Everything is boring when you know magic exists."

Merlin hesitated. "Did you make any friends, at least?"

Silas shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I did hang out with this one boy Tommy but when his mum found out I was a foster kid she didn't let him hang out with me again."

Merlin frowned. "But that's not fair!"

Silas shrugged, trying to pretend that it didn't bother him but Merlin was sure that it did. "Oh!" Silas said and he smiled. "Mark came around a few times. He's only a few neighborhoods over and I saw him at one of the sports events. He's playing basketball."

"That's good," Merlin said smiling in reply. He yawned and stretched his back. "Hey, lets go for a walk. I need to move around after sitting for so long on the train."

Silas nodded eagerly and led the way out the room and down the stairs. "Granny Audrey," Silas called into the kitchen. "Merlin and I are going for a walk, we'll be back soon."

Granny Audrey poked her head through the doorway, a smile on her face. Merlin thought that she looked older since he last saw her. She had bags under her eyes and there was a paper quality to her skin that concerned him. "All right, dearies," she said. "Just be back in time for supper in an hour. And don't forget your coats!"

Silas pulled an extra winter jacket from the closet – since Merlin couldn't very well go out in his Hogwarts cloak – and soon they were walking side by side down the road. Their feet made a sound like a cross between a squeak and a crunch on the frozen ground.

Merlin glanced at Silas, concern furrowing his brows. Despite that carefree smile upon his face, Merlin had a feeling that the boy was keeping something else from him. Silas was like that. He didn't want to bother others with his troubles and carry the weight alone. It was an honorable quality, but Merlin wished that the boy would open up to him. He wanted to help him. He wanted to be the person that Silas turned to and it wasn't because they were siblings now. From his time at Hogwarts, he'd realized that just because you were brothers, it didn't mean you were friends. Ron and the Twins were evidence enough of this.

He had been Silas' friend first and he wanted it to stay that way.

But he also knew that Silas was just like him. They both disliked sharing their secrets. Merlin still didn't know what exactly had happened to Silas' brother or how he had ended up in Wool's or even why he seemed to know more than he let on about the magical world. Just like how Merlin didn't want to talk to Hermione and Draco about any of his problems. They were really the perfect pair, weren't they?

"So, how is the world of magic?" Silas asked and he took Merlin's arm. "I want to know everything."

Merlin hesitated. He couldn't tell Silas everything. How could he tell him that a professor might be trying to steal the key to resurrecting the most feared warlock in fifty years? How could he tell him that he was the unofficial guardian of two dragons residing in the Forbidden Forest?

Silas seemed to sense his uneasiness because he added, "Has something bad happened?"

Merlin ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it up. How could he ever expect Silas to tell him his problems, his worries, his life if he wouldn't do the same? Yes, he hated the idea of revealing his secrets. He had always lived in the shadows but he had always had Gaius there for him. Snape was great and all, but Merlin couldn't tell the professor everything. But Silas, who didn't even attend Hogwarts, would listen. And Silas, who was his first friend in this bizarre futuristic world and his first younger brother wouldn't judge him. Anyway, hadn't Silas already proved that he could keep Merlin's secrets?

"I think there's someone bad at Hogwarts," he finally said.

Silas' eyes widened. "Who?" he whispered, moving closer to Merlin as though he were listening to a scary story around a campfire.

And Merlin told him about the Dark Lord Voldemort. He told him how Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was working with him in order to restore him to his full power. He told him how he couldn't prove it and how that fact frustrated him. Merlin told him about Korrizahar hiding in the Forbidden Forest with Aithusa and how he was terrified someone would find them and kill them. He told him how his magic was causing problems at school, how he'd collapsed bookshelves, sent Zabini flying, and exploded a broomstick. He told him how he was scared of revealing how much power he really had. And, Merlin told him how he'd killed a troll on Halloween and how all these secrets complicated his friendship with Hermione and Draco.

"It's just," Merlin said as they reached the park and took a seat on one of the frozen benches, "I'm scared of what they'll think of me."

"Well obviously, you don't care what I think," Silas said cheekily and he nudged Merlin's arm. He leapt to his feet in mock horror, "Oh no! My brother has killed a magical creature three times his size. I am now scared for my life—run away!" and giggling, he dashed toward one of the icy slides.

Merlin groaned and followed him at a walk, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "I didn't tell you all that so you would laugh at me! I really am worried about it. What if they think I'm some sort of Dark Wizard or—or—" he trailed of awkwardly.

Or the real Merlin.

Silas managed to climb up the slippery bars and sat down on top of the slide. "Well," he said cocking his head. "If they're your friends, they would know that you could never become a Dark Wizard or anything." He went through the slide and landed in a heap in the snow.

"You okay?" Merlin asked helping him up.

"Yeah, awesome." Silas wiped his red nose. "Anyway, how did you do it?"

Merlin blinked. "Do what?"

Silas rolled his eyes. "Kill the troll! That's why you're scared to tell them. I mean, if you'd just shouted some spell that accidentally made the ceiling collapse you wouldn't be scared to tell them how you accidentally killed the thing." He shook his head. "But it was wasn't an accident and you meant to kill the troll, so you're worried that it makes you look dangerous."

Merlin slowly nodded. "Y-yeah."

"Well, it does." Silas scratched his head. "From the sound of it, killing a troll isn't easy." He met Merlin's eyes for a moment as though looking for affirmation. Then he smiled. "So, are you some kind of badass then?"

"Silas!" Merlin admonished and then he laughed. "I guess I am."

"Don't be prideful!" Silas said snottily and he punched Merlin's arm with a chuckle. Sobering up he added, "But really, I think you should tell them."

Merlin bit his lip, casting his eyes to the ground. Silas watched him for a moment and then wrapped his arm around Merlin's shoulder. "I don't want to look dangerous," Merlin told him in a half-whisper. He could still remember the way Arthur had looked at him when he'd performed magic for the first time. The fear he'd seen there. He didn't want his friends to fear him.

"But you are a dangerous," Silas replied softly. "I've known since the moment I met you. I think to some degree everyone does. There's just something about you Merlin, and I think that something is danger. But you are also a guardian and that's why everyone's in awe of you. You are powerful but you use your power to protect, and that's why you're a badass."

Merlin stared at him, lost for words.

"By the way, you have no idea how badly I want to meet your dragons. Can I hide inside your bag and come with you to Hogwarts, or something?" Silas added pleadingly. "You can feed me scraps. You won't even know I'm there—"

Merlin burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm sure Professor Snape would just love that." He ruffled Silas' hair, still chuckling. "I'll think about a way for you two to meet."

"Promise?" And Silas gave him a tight hug.

"Yeah, now come on, we came to this park to have fun." Merlin said breaking the hug and running toward the monkey bars.

The metal was horribly slick, and Merlin kept sliding off the bars to land with a thud in the snow but that didn't stop him from getting up and doing it again, Silas laughing and doing the same. Silas told him how Granny Audrey and Popeye had taken him to the zoo a few months ago.

"It was amazing, Merlin! We should really go together sometime," he said with a giggle. "There was this enormous snake and the otters were playing a game with balls."

"Well, look who it is?" came a new voice behind them.

Merlin and Silas turned around to look and it took a moment for Merlin to recognize the boy that stood there, flanked by two others. It was the enormous blonde brat from the toy store that they'd seen before Merlin had left for school. Merlin dropped from the bars and onto the ground, landing gracefully on his feet despite the slippery ground.

"Is this your brother, Silas? God, I was beginning to think you'd made him up," the boy continued and his friends guffawed with him.

"Silas?" Merlin muttered glanced toward him. His brother was standing defensively, shooting a glare that somehow didn't manage to hide the fear that lurked in his eyes.

"Shove off, Dudley!" Silas spat. "Merlin, lets go back home," and he turned to go but one of Dudley's friends blocked his way.

"Merlin?" Dudley repeated. "Is that your name?" He wiggled one of his sausage-like fingers in Merlin's face. "How stupid were your parents to give you such a lame name?"

Merlin clenched his fists. "At least mine weren't drunk. Isn't Dudley a type of beer?"

Dudley didn't blush. Instead he glowered at Merlin, taking a menacing step toward him. "Since you're new here, I'll just let you off with a warning. I don't want to see you at this park again."

Merlin folded his arms. "Oh is this your park?" he snapped. "I don't see a sign anywhere saying Dudley's Private Park anywhere."

Silas tugged on Merlin's arm. "We should go," he whispered in Merlin's ear looking nervous. "Those guys are mean – and you can't use magic outside of school."

Merlin glared furiously at Dudley, but Silas was right. He was on the Ministry's radar now. They would know if he cast a spell, and these boys were muggles. He would certainly get in a lot of trouble for that, maybe even expelled. "Fine," he hissed and he turned to leave with Silas.

"Hey, Silas? How's your bruise coming along? Should be turning green and purple now, right?" One of Dudley's friends who looked like a rat shouted with a smirk and Dudley roared with laughter. "Lift up your shirt, and we'll—"

Merlin hit him so hard across the jaw that the rat-faced boy fell to the snowy ground. His knuckles cracked and bleeding, the pain was numbed by he sheer rage that filled him. "Have they been bullying you, Silas?" Merlin asked in a voice of deadly calm. The rat-faced boy whimpered and scrambled to his feet, holding his cheek with tears in his eyes.

"Merlin—come on let's go. I'll tell you at home," Silas mumbled. "They're not worth it," he continued trying to pull Merlin back toward the house.

"You're dead Merlin," Dudley snarled and he balled his hands into fists. "You should 'a listened to that wimpy brother you got there."

"No one picks on my little brother!" Merlin shouted and he dive tackled Dudley into the snow. He was going to kill him. He wasn't even going to use his wand; he was just going to keep hitting him until he stopped moving. The only problem with that plan was that Dudley was over twice his size and he had a friend.

It was a tangle of limbs and flesh. Merlin thought he saw Silas fighting off the rat-faced boy. Dudley's other friend grabbed Merlin around the neck with his arm and pulled him off Dudley. The fat boy struggled to his feet, his lip bleeding and eye turning black and hit Merlin so hard in the stomach that all the wind rushed out of his lungs. The pressure around his neck grew more painful and he tried to throw the other boy off him with little success.

"Get him!" someone shouted, and Merlin had no idea if it was for him or Dudley.

Merlin managed to elbow the boy holding him in the gut and the kid loosened his hold long enough for Merlin to struggle out of it. Dudley however knocked him across the face before he could regain his footing and he tumbled to the ground with splotches of blood splashing across the snow. Dizzy, fighting off the blackness swirling around his vision he tried to get up when a kick got him right under the ribcage. Without really meaning to do it, his eyes flashed gold and the ground beneath Dudley turned into solid ice. The fat boy's foot flew right out from under him and he landed flat on his back wheezing for breath.

In the background, Merlin could hear the loud blare of police sirens. Still dizzy, his nose dripping blood all over his jacket and hands, he struggled to his knees just as he saw a police officer pull the rat-faced boy off Silas and toss him into the snow bank as if he were a rag doll. The boy that had been holding Merlin in a chokehold took off running, ignoring the shouts at his back.

"Hey kid," someone snapped their fingers in front of his face. "Are you all right?" It was a second officer. The man had a scar on his lower lip and he gripped Merlin's elbow to help him get to his feet. Merlin held on, struggling to stay upright.

"S-Silas," he mumbled, turning to look to where his brother had been.

"He's good. Silas is fine."

Merlin nodded and shook his head, trying to clear it. He saw that the other officer was now putting Dudley and the rat-faced boy into the back of his car. The officer still holding Merlin saw where he was looking. "Officer Harrows is going to drop those boys off at their parents and explain what it means to be charged with assault."

Merlin nodded and finally saw that Silas was sitting on the bench, holding an icepack over his eye. An ambulance was just behind him on the road, a stocky man with bright orange shoes was rushing toward Merlin with a wad of tissue and another ice pack in his hands. "Here," and he put the tissue over Merlin's nose to stem the flow.

"I think he's got a concussion," the officer told the EMT and he led Merlin over to sit next to Silas on the bench.

"How did you know to come?" Merlin mumbled, resting his head back on the bench.

The officer with the scar smiled. Merlin finally caught sight of a badge that said Officer Figg on it. "One of your neighbors called it in when she heard the yelling," he explained. "We just happened to be a few blocks over." Merlin nodded and Officer Figg turned to talk to the EMT.

"Merlin," Silas mumbled. Merlin could see a purple bruise forming on his cheek, his eye starting to swell shut. "Are you okay?"

Merlin didn't answer. He could taste blood running down the back of his throat and it made him nauseous. He dropped the tissue and spat a thick wad of coagulated blood onto the ground. He groaned and sat back up.

"Never been better."

Silas nodded and then looked at his shoes, readjusting the ice pack on his face. And then, so quietly that Merlin almost didn't hear him, "Thanks for sticking up for me."

Merlin chuckled and then winced when it made his side ache. "I'm not sure this qualifies," he said.

"It does." Silas bit his lip. "He doesn't go to Stonewall Public, but sometimes I'll run into him here at the playground or walking home from the bus stop." He paused again and Merlin glanced blearily at him. "He's a horrible boy," Silas said savagely.

"You're kidding?" Merlin said sarcastically. "I thought he was a real charmer."

"And he always has those friends around him. They're the ones that run you down and hold you while he—" he cut off abruptly.

Merlin felt his blood boil with rage again. "Well, with any luck he'll think twice before he does it again." Merlin swallowed, and his throat ached at the motion. "But if he does do it again, just warn him that next time I won't hold back. I'll kill him."

Silas gave Merlin a soft smile. "No you won't."

Merlin frowned, not entirely sure he agreed. "Is he the reason why that boy Tommy wasn't allowed to hang out with you anymore?" he asked. Slowly, Silas nodded.

"He jumped us when we went to the park and his mother freaked out about it. And then Dudley's parents managed to convince her that it was all my fault." His voice cracked and he fell silent.

"How are we doing, boys?" Officer Figg said as he came to a stop in front of them. The EMT knelt down in front of Merlin and shined a small flashlight on his eyes.

"Yeah, I'd say you have a weak concussion. You'll need to get it checked out," he said and he brought Merlin's hand away from his nose so that he could take a look at it. "And the bleeding's stopped. Good." He got to his feet and glanced toward the police officer. "Will you be taking them home, or should I just take them straight to the hospital?"

"Don't need a hospital," Merlin mumbled and Officer Figg chuckled.

"You do, actually. I think they need to realign your nose." Merlin pouted as Silas giggled beside him. Another EMT, a stern looking woman emerged from the ambulance with a sour look on her face.

"We just got another call!" she barked. "Just down the road from here, a Mr. Haddock just—"

Horrible cold terror drenched Merlin and both he and Silas leapt to their feet at once.

"Popeye?!" screeched Silas in horror.

"Is he okay?" Merlin asked, ignoring the way the world spun horribly around him. The officer seemed to notice though, and grabbed his elbow again.

"Do you know him?" he asked as both EMT's jumped into the ambulance and took off with their sirens blaring.

"He's our guardian," Merlin said glancing panic-stricken toward Silas. The poor boy looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Officer Figg nodded. "All right, let's go. Which house is it?"

"Number nine," Silas whispered as he ran toward the police car. Officer Figg nodded and helped steady Merlin as he walked toward the car as well, sliding into the back seat with Silas.

It was completely silent while they drove, and it was only a minute later that they were pulling up beside the house. The ambulance was already in the driveway, and the front door was thrown open. Silas burst out of the car first, with Merlin cautiously going after him.

"Popeye!" Silas yelled, rushing toward the door.

"Don't block the doorway!" came a stern command from the woman EMT. She appeared in the doorway, leading a gurney with not Popeye on it, but Granny Audrey. She had a breathing apparatus over her face and Silas crumpled to the ground when he saw it. And if Officer Figg hadn't taken his elbow again, Merlin was sure he would have done the same.

Popeye came outside after the gurney, his face wet with tears. He caught sight of Silas on the ground and wrapped his arms around him. "It'll be all right," Merlin heard him say and then he caught sight of Silas' face. "What happened?" Popeye looked up at Merlin. "Both of you? Officer?"'

Officer Figg lead Merlin over to him and let go of his arm. Merlin slowly lowered himself to the cold ground and put his arm around Silas who had started crying. As the police officer explain what happened at the park, the EMT's loaded Granny Audrey into the ambulance and whisked her away to the hospital. When the officer finished explaining, Popeye glanced down at Merlin and Silas.

"You should get his," the officer said pointing to Merlin, "head checked out."

"Yes, of course." Popeye took a deep shuddering breath.

"Popeye," Silas mumbled, his words thick with his sobs. "What happened to Granny Audrey?"

Officer Figg put his hand on Wentworth Haddock's shoulder and walked back to his car. Popeye seemed to take some courage from that and bent down, his knees popping. "I'll tell you in the car on the way to the hospital, all right?" he said softly. And he helped Merlin to his feet and lead the boys over to the old beat up pickup.

Only A Boy

The hospital was dim and sparsely staffed, with the sound of late-night television drifting through the halls.

It didn't take long before he found them sitting on a bench in the hallway and Snape could honestly say he'd never seen Merlin worse. Even that time in the infirmary, his eyes had sparkled despite the pain. But that sparkle had gone out. He had his arm around his foster brother; the poor boy snuggled right up against him in fretful sleep with his head on Merlin's lap. Both were supporting bandages and large dark colored bruises.

Merlin didn't look up until Snape was right in front of him, and something in Snape's heart broke when he saw the miserable expression on the boy's face. "Granny—she's got cancer," he whispered hoarsely. "We—we can't stay with them anymore—" his voice cracked and a few tears slipped down his face.

Snape knelt down so that he was the same height. "I know," he said. He'd received a letter from the ministry of magic not ten minutes prior explaining everything.

Officer Figg, or Adam Figg was Arabella's son from her first marriage. And though, like his mother, he possessed no magical abilities of his own, he was aware of its existence. He was usually the first one they called when there was a muggle-wizard incident. Luckily, the ministry wasn't going to press any charges for the use of magic against a muggle. Officer Figg had managed to convince them that it was done purely out of self-defense and that they wouldn't even need any memory wipes. But, due to Audrey Haddock's deteriorating condition, the muggle social services considered them unfit to continue housing the boys and would be coming to move them to a new home—or at least they would have been if Snape hadn't intercepted the message.

"Dumbledore is looking for a wizarding foster as we speak," Snape told him, putting his hand on Merlin's shoulder. The boy nodded in reply and dropped his head, hiding his eyes with his hair. It was so painful to see Merlin like this. Every part of him wanted to wrap the boy in a hug and tell him that everything would be all right. "But for now," Snape continued, "You'll be staying with me."

Merlin looked up at him, and he thought he saw the smallest glimmer of a smile return to his face. "Silas too?" he asked.

Snape ruffled his hair. "Silas too." He then slipped his hand underneath the sleeping Silas and picked him up. The boy groaned but didn't wake up, instead shifting to rest his head on Snape's shoulder. "Let's go," he told Merlin and he led the way down the hallway.

It was strange how Merlin didn't make the smallest protest when he summoned the Knight Bus. He'd hoped that the prospect of riding "that blasted contraption" would bring some of the fire back to the boy's eyes, but it didn't. They jerked and slid, jumping from one location to another but save for a few grimaces Merlin didn't say anything. Instead he kept shooting worried glances toward his sleeping brother, a turmoil of emotions written in his face. Finally, the bus skidded to their stop and a voice spoke over the crackling intercom, "Spinners End."

"I won't get in trouble for using magic outside of school, will I?" Merlin finally asked as they started walking down the dark street.

Snape paused a moment. "Yes. You're expelled."

Merlin made a terrified squeaking noise and came to a complete stop. "What?" he choked out. "But he was attacking me! I—" he trailed off as Snape started laughing. "You lied, you prat!" Merlin huffed, taking off with a stomp in his step.

"Yes, I did." There it was, some little semblance of the regular Merlin. "And as you have pointed out, you were defending yourself, so the Ministry will not press any charges."

Merlin gave a small sigh of relief, but he still didn't look back at Snape. When they got to the house, Snape thought that some cheering drafts might be in order for both of them, Silas especially. They were taking this hard, and as Christmas was in two days Snape wasn't surprised.

"Merlin, over here," he called when Merlin kept walking past his house. He unlocked the door with a silently cast spell and strode inside. He hadn't been here for several months and the place reflected this fact. Stuffy, thick with the smell of dust, Snape almost wished he'd had time to clean the place up a bit. But, if Merlin was bothered by the accommodations, he didn't say. He gave the entry hall one look over and shrugged. He followed Snape up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Snape handed Silas gently over to Merlin and took out his wand. A few spells later, two cots with sheets and blankets appeared.

"Do you need—" Snape started to say, but Merlin shook his head.

"Thank you, professor. We're fine," and Merlin slipped Silas into bed before kicking off his shoes and getting into his own. Snape stood there awkwardly for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. Good night? He didn't know. Merlin had already pulled the blanket over his head, so in the end Snape just turned off the lights and left.

In the hallway he pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaustion washing over his mind and body. He could only imagine how those boys felt right now. Slammed with news like that not minutes after getting beaten up, and then dropped like hot stones for the next family to pick up. He knew how the system worked, the strain and stress it placed on the young minds of children. Acceptance and love traded for negligence and disregard in a heartbeat. And now they had to spend Christmas with him, a grumpy stern professor with little interest in holidays.

Snape headed back down stairs and cast a few cleaning spells, obliterating the centimeter of dust that hung on all his shelves. Before long, there was a knock at his door. Knowing that there was only one person that could be, Snape flicked his wand over his head to open the door and Dumbledore strode inside with two levitating trunks behind him.

"Evening, Severus," he said coming to a pause in the entry hall. He directed the trunks to the ground. "Merlin's and Silas' belongings. I took the liberty of stopping by the Haddock's on my way here."

Snape glanced carelessly toward the trunks. "I'll bring them up to the boys in the morning," he said.

Dumbledore nodded. "Mind if I?" and he gestured toward Snape's stove where a kettle covered in grime sat. At Snape's nod, the headmaster walked toward it, pulling out his wand. The kettle sparkled good as new, and two mugs drifted from a cabinet to rest on the counter. "Would you care for a cup?"

Ten minutes later, the two men sat at the newly cleaned dinner table sipping tea. Snape was a little amused that the headmaster had thought to bring his own tea, as Snape was certain he didn't have any in the house at the moment. Or if he did, it'd probably gone bad.

"Have you found a wizard foster for the boys, yet?" Snape asked.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. There are a few possibilities but none can take them until after the holidays," he replied with a sigh.

"I suppose that means they'll need to stay with me for the time being," Snape said and he pinched the bridge of his nose again. This was just great.

"I'm surprised, Severus," Dumbledore said and his eyes twinkled as he took another sip of tea. "I would have thought you'd protest to spending the holidays away from the castle."

Snape set his mug down. "I hardly think that protesting will change the situation, do not however assume that I am pleased." And he suspected that the boys that were sleeping in his guest bedroom felt the same way. "I would much rather keep an eye on Quirrell – the holidays are an ideal time to make a move."

"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "the holidays will be when I am least occupied with school affairs and can actively keep an eye on the stone myself." He set his finished mug on the table. "I will watch Quirrell, so do enjoy your holiday."

Snape gave him a stiff nod and Dumbledore got to his feet. "I'll keep you informed," he added and Snape felt himself relax slightly. He escorted the headmaster out the door and sat back down at the table, drinking the rest of his tea.

Only A Boy

Early morning sunlight drifted through the window, touching upon the two boys that were feinting sleep.

"Why didn't you tell me you were being bullied?" Merlin asked, turning in his bed to look at Silas. When his foster brother didn't answer, Merlin wondered if Silas still asleep but then the covers moved and Silas turned over to look at him.

"It wasn't that I didn't tell you," Silas muttered. The swelling of his eye had worsened during the night, taking on a purple and red hue. It hurt Merlin just to look at it. "But," and here Silas took a deep breath, "I didn't tell anyone. It was my problem, and I wanted to try to deal with it on my own."

"Silas, he was three time your size and had friends." Merlin shook his head and sat up, wincing slightly as his side protested against the movement. "It's okay to ask for help," and he moved over to sit on the side of Silas' cot.

Silas sat up and gave a lopsided smirk. "I guess we both have the same problem."

Merlin smiled in reply and nodded. "Yeah, I guess we do." He paused, and his smile faltered. "So, why don't we make each other a promise?"

Silas nodded and held out his pinky finger. "A pinky promise." Merlin blinked for a moment before sticking out his own. Silas hooked it with his pinky.

"Promise that you'll tell me the next time you're having problems," Merlin said.

"Okay," Silas said and he smiled. "You promise to tell your friends the truth." Merlin almost unhooked his pinky. Silas must have seen the flicker of panic in his eyes because he added, "You don't have to tell them everything. I might save the news about the dragons for another day—but tell them about the troll."

"Silas I—" Merlin started to say, but Silas put his other finger over Merlin's lips.

"Just promise to be more honest with them, okay? Just like you want to help me, I want to help you but I—" Silas faltered, and for a moment Merlin thought he was going to start crying again. His eyes shone, but somehow he managed to hold the tears inside. "I can't," he finally said. "So let them help you instead."

Emotion rose in Merlin's throat and he swallowed with difficulty. The very idea terrified him, the threat of them discovering who he really was worried him. But he knew he owed it to Silas to at least try, the kid was right after all. He wasn't going to be able to do everything on his own. And how could he get upset when Silas wouldn't ask for help when he did the exact same thing?

"Okay." Merlin took a deep shuddering breath. "Okay."

"Pinky Swear?"

Merlin chuckled and nodded, dropping his hand and wrapping Silas in a hug. "Pinky Swear," he repeated.

"Ow—Merlin that—" Merlin quickly let go and Silas grimaced.

"Sorry! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just sore. Does that professor have some magical healing potion, or something?" He asked touching his swollen eye and wincing.

"I'm sure he does," Merlin said and he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know if he's awake yet though."

The rapping of knuckles against wood startled both of them. Merlin jumped and Silas gave a small squeak. The door opened and Snape stepped inside, billowing black cloak and all. And if weren't for the mildly surprised look on his face as though he hadn't expect to find them awake, Merlin would have worried that he'd overheard their conversation.

"Good, you're both awake," he said and he pulled two bottles out of his robes. "Drink this," and he handed them each one. Silas downed it at once and Merlin amused himself with watching before following suit. It felt warm and minty, a pleasant taste that he hadn't expected.

"Did it heal?" Silas asked eagerly looking at Merlin.

"Does it feel healed?"

"Not really."

And Merlin raised his eyebrow. "Well, you know the answer then," he said. He didn't feel healed either, but he did feel happier. Even though everything about their situation was miserable, he didn't feel so weighed down by it.

"No," Snape said and he rolled his eyes. "That's this bottle here," and he took another pair out of his robes.

Merlin stared at him, as he took the second vial. "You're like a walking pharmacy, you know that?" he said.

"I prefer the term, Potions Master."

Silas let out a snort of laughter, and then winced. He glanced at Merlin and drank the second vial, scrunching up his face as he did so. "Blarg, why does this one taste so awful?"

Merlin uncorked his and drank it too, grimacing at the bitter taste. "Toad bile never tastes good," Snape answered with a nasty smirk and Merlin choked, coughing hard.

"What?" he croaked.

"Why—what's toad bile?" Silas asked glancing toward Merlin, who had gone green.

"It's—you really don't want to know," he said wiping his mouth and handing Snape the bottle back. From the wicked glint in the professor eyes though, he was ninety-percent sure that he was just teasing him. At least, he hoped he was.

Silas pouted, but quickly became distracted by his eye healing. He touched it and grinned, jumping to his feet. "Merlin!" he said. "It's healing!"

"No," Snape corrected. "The swelling is going down. Even wizards cannot make injuries disappear completely but it will heal much faster."

Silas didn't seem to mind though. His bruise had shrunken in size, and he could open his eye fully again. He glanced at Merlin and cocked his head to the side. "How come your face still looks the same?"

"Oh," Merlin brought a hand to touch the bruise on his cheekbone. "I feel better," he lied smoothly. "My injuries didn't swell as much as yours, so it's probably not as obvious." But that wasn't the truth at all. It was the dose size again, that lovely problem of having the magical strength of an adult while locked in a child's body. Merlin suspected that Snape had given him a child's dose, and he wasn't about to ask for a stronger one.

Silas blinked, but nodded all the same. He stretched and smiled. "I'm starving," he said looking up at Snape. "What's for breakfast?"

Ten minutes later, they were seated around the table eating toast with jam. Merlin saw Snape's lip twitch when Silas piled his high and dropped some sticky red jam on the table. He looked over at Merlin and grinned broadly, pieces of bread and strawberry stuck on his teeth.

"Now, there are a few house rules," Snape said as they ate. Merlin suspected that he wanted to tell them while their mouths were full so that they couldn't protest. "You are not allowed to go into my bedroom, or my basement lab. And there is no reason for you to accidentally wander into them because those doors are locked." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Otherwise, clean up after yourself and don't break anything."

"Can't you just fix it with magic?" Silas asked him.

"Do you intend to break something?"

"Uh… no," Silas murmured and he took another piece of bread.

"Then there shouldn't be a problem." He paused a moment, as though trying to think of something else to say. "Merlin, do not use magic."

"And here I was wishing you'd forget that one," Merlin quipped back.

"As you can see," Snape continued as if he hadn't heard him. "This house has been unoccupied for a while, and we don't have very much food. Although a trip to the shop is in order, my cooking skills are limited and we will make due with takeout for—"

"I can cook," Merlin interrupted. He wiped his mouth and pushed his empty plate back.

Snape turned to look at him. "I'd rather not get food poisoning this holiday," he sneered at Merlin.

"No, Merlin's a really good cook," Silas added, a piece of bread falling out of his mouth and onto his plate as he spoke. Merlin grinned. He'd better be after preparing most of Arthur's meals for him. And he'd always been the cook for every single one of their expeditions. He looked at Merlin. "I want a ham!"

"I really think—" Snape began to say but Merlin interrupted.

"We're not eating Chinese takeout."

"Fine then, why don't you become charge of cooking all our meals?" Snape said sneering at him.

Merlin folded his arms. "Fine. I'll make a list of things I need and you go to the shop while I deep-clean the kitchen." Although the counters looked wiped down, the oven burners were black and he was sure the pots and pans were covered in grime.

Snape looked a little taken-aback. "You're not allowed to use magic," he repeated folding his arms. "Are you deaf, or do you think you'll get away with it because it's a chore?"

Merlin shrugged. "A little soap and water never killed anybody." He got to his feet and grabbed a small notebook that was next to the old-style phone and began scribbling ingredients.

"Can I go with Professor Snape shopping?" Silas piped up, getting to his feet too.

"Uh—" Merlin glanced helplessly back at Snape. And the professor pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You may," Snape said. Merlin watched him for a moment. He'd been almost nice this whole morning. Even his interruptions and Silas dribbling jam everywhere had been allowed. But for some reason, it bothered Merlin. He knew that it was only because he felt sorry for them but he really didn't want the professor's pity.

Well, on the bright side, it wouldn't be long at all before the professor finally had enough.

Merlin finished the list and handed it to Snape. He glanced at the list, but didn't comment on what was written there. He merely looked at Silas and nodded for the boy to follow him.

"Have fun," Merlin offered with a wave.

"I will!"

The front door closed with a snap, and Merlin stood alone in the kitchen for a long moment before turning and smacking his hand together. Cleaning was something he was very good at.

Only A Boy

Why did this boy volunteer to go with him?

Snape couldn't understand why Silas had opted to go with him rather than stay with Merlin. After all, hadn't the boys only been together for a day? He would have expected this child, as clingy as he was, to stick to Merlin like glue for the entire holiday, especially now that they'd been removed from the Haddock family.

"So you teach potions, right?" the boy asked. Snape glanced down at him, noting with relief that his eye did look much better. The colors were beginning to fade.

"Yes," he replied shortly and he turned to look ahead.

"Is it fun?"

Snape's lip curled. "When my instructions are actually followed, its tolerable."

Silas frowned. "Shouldn't you like what you teach?"

"You teach what you're good at."

Snape was a brilliant potions master, but that didn't necessarily mean that he loved potions. No, what he loved was Defense Against the Dark Arts but as that particular position was cursed Dumbledore wouldn't let him teach it. A pity really, Snape was curious to see what it would take to get him to leave the post because he wouldn't resign voluntarily.

They reached the grocery market and Silas was still badgering Snape with random questions about the classes at Hogwarts. Snape's short replies did little to deter him from asking more, and by the time Snape had paid for the food his head was aching. This was why he was so mean at school, so that children like Silas didn't pester him with nonsensical questions!

"But Sir, if the—"

"Silas, why don't we practice the art of silence? Are you familiar with that particular concept?" Snape interrupted, shooting the boy a glare.

Silas fell silent at once. He nodded mutely and walked with Snape down the road, holding the bag that contained the Christmas ham. Snape sighed with relief, grateful that he could finally think again. He probably needed to give Merlin another healing draft when he got home; from the look of it the child's dose wasn't enough. It was just like before – though he still wasn't sure why that was. Why did Merlin need an adult's dose? It wasn't like his magic had reached that level already.

Or had it?

"How do you know if you're a wizard?" Silas asked in a very small voice.

Snape blinked and looked over at him. The boy was chewing his lip. "Why do you ask?" Snape countered.

Silas gave a non-committal shrug. "Just wondering." For a long moment that was all he said, and then he added in a rush, "I mean, there's just been some funny stuff happening at school."

Snape rolled his eyes. This was rather common in families were one child had magic and another didn't. They always thought they'd done something just because they wanted to join their sibling at Hogwarts. "Unlikely," he said.

Silas raised an eyebrow. "I mean really funny."

"Why don't you enlighten me?" Snape asked with a sneer. He could always tell when a kid was making a story up.

Silas folded his arms, and he cast a surly glance up at Snape. "I broke my teacher's chair. He was putting me on the spot to answer a question and I got all flustered and his chair broke."

Snape sighed and shook his head. "The weight of your teacher finally caused the chair to break," he explained. "Lucky timing does not mean you have magical abilities."

The boy didn't seem convinced however, and he came to a stop, forcing Snape to stop as well. "A kid killed my plant in science class, but the next day it was the biggest one."

Now that sounded a bit more like accidental magic.

"And then," Silas went on and here his voice went quiet. "I woke up from a nightmare and my curtains had caught fire. Popeye said that the heater must have malfunctioned, but it wasn't even next to the heater. And—"

"Thank you, Silas," Snape interrupted, "I do believe I have been enlightened." Silas nodded and fell silent, watching him as he processed this information. Well, there wasn't a reason why Silas couldn't be a member of the magical community. It was a little unlikely considering the circumstances, but stranger things had happened before. "What does Merlin think?" he finally asked in order to buy some time.

Silas shuffled his feet. "I—I haven't told him about it, yet," he mumbled.

"And why not?"

Silas hesitated. "Well, I wasn't sure how," and he bit his lip. "So, you think that maybe I—"

"It is a possibility," Snape told him shortly, although honestly he wondered how else a curtain would catch fire like that. He didn't want to be too hasty though. Hogwarts kept a record of students that were candidates for future enrollment and if Silas truly possessed magic, his name would appear on the list. It would be a simple matter to ask McGonagall if she could take a look. "How old are you, Silas?"

The boy blinked and his face went blank for a moment and dropped his head to stare at his shoes. "I think nine?" he said finally looking back up. He frowned and then lifted his leg to closer inspect his shoe, as though he saw something that shouldn't be there.

"You don't know?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Years living on the street start to run together," Silas retorted. He scrapped the sole of his shoe along the pavement and then re-inspected it. "I lost count a few times, but I'm almost positive I'm nine."

Snape sighed. "And your last name is—"

"Meadowes." Silas walked over to a broken water drain and tried scraping his shoe along the gap, a frown on his face.

"That's right." Again, the name felt familiar –like he'd read it in an obituary report. Snape turned and started walking down the street again, not bothering to look if Silas was following him. "If you do have magic, Hogwarts will have you on a list of prospective students."

He glanced beside him expecting to see the boy, and realized the boy wasn't following. He stopped and looked behind him, seeing that Silas was still next to the drain. Silas gave a miserable sigh and pointed toward the drain. "I lost my shoe."

Snape blinked. "You lost your shoe," Snape repeated slowly, coming back to stand next to him. He was struggling to maintain his balance so that his sock didn't touch the ground. "Down the drain?" Snape continued wondering how on earth this boy had managed that.

"I stepped on a piece of gum in the grocery store and I was trying to get it off," Silas mumbled. Snape managed to suppress a groan and, after a quick glance around, pulled out his wand. As he retrieved the shoe with a simple spell, Silas asked again, "So you think there's a chance that I'm magical?"

Snape cleaned the shoe and handed it back to Silas. "A possibility. I will check the list, but don't get your hopes up."

Too late judging from the sparkle in Silas' eyes.

Only A Boy

Merlin wasn't sure what he expected when he woke up Christmas morning. After all, he couldn't ever remember really celebrating the holiday back in Camelot. It just hadn't been a part of the culture, as his mother had been a pagan and his father had been a servant of the Old Religion, which was merely a subsection of paganism.

So why would he ever celebrate a Christian holiday?

But in this time period, it had taken on a different meaning. It had become a weird hybrid of pagan and Christian ideals, and then twisted into something that wasn't really recognizable by either party. The Santa Claus character was such an entity that sprung to mind.

After a simple dinner, drinking some more potions that Snape gave both him and Silas – and which seemed to work better for Merlin too – they had gotten ready for bed. And, before Merlin even knew it he was waking up on Christmas morning. Silas, who had been acting strangely cheerful ever since his shopping trip with Snape, was already up and sitting on Merlin's bed holding a box wrapped in silver wrapping.

"What's that?" Merlin asked blearily, still half-asleep.

"It's your present. From me." Silas held it out eagerly toward him. "And I'm going to watch you unwrap it."

Merlin chuckled and slid into a sitting position, wiping his eyes as he did so. "Goddess, what time is it?"

Silas' smile faltered slightly. "It's better that you don't know."

Merlin groaned but he was more amused than annoyed. He yawned and took the present from Silas and started ripping the paper off it. Silas had put three different layers of wrapping over it, and by the time Merlin got to last layer he was laughing.

"It's more fun if you have to work for it," Silas explained with a broad grin.

"I see," he replied. And finally, amid the heaps of silver paper was a book. "A collection of Arthurian Tales comprised by Geoffrey of Monmouth?" he read from the title cover. "Wait, is this—"

"Yup!" Silas nodded. "I found it in a used book-shop months ago. It has some of the more original legends, although most people think that this Geoffrey guy made them up. Anyway, I thought you might like it." Silas bit his lip. "Do you?"

"Of course!" Merlin hugged him. He felt so strange, holding a book in which a version of himself resided within. He was beyond curious to know how accurate or inaccurate it was – he'd seen some hilarious film adaptions already. He grinned broadly and Silas beamed back, looking relieved.

Glancing to the ground, Merlin saw that they each had a small pile of presents around their beds. Recognizing one of them as his own gift to Silas – and wondering how the hell it got there – he reached down and grabbed it, handing it to his brother. "This one is for you, from me." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as Silas opened it. "Although, I don't think it's as good as the gift you got me."

It was a box of assorted wizard candies that Merlin had bought from the trolley on the train. "These are Chocolate Frogs," he explained taking one package out. "They have famous wizard cards in them if you want to collect them, I gave you all my cards just case you do," he shrugged. "And these are Pumpkin Pasties, Ice Mice, and Bertie Bots Every Flavor Beans, and Licorice Wands. Oh, and this box has a stasis charm on it so food that's inside it will never go bad."

Silas was thrilled and immediately ripped the wrapper off a Chocolate Frog, which then jumped onto his chest. "Whoa!" he yelled and then he giggled. "You didn't say they move!"

They spent the next half hour unwrapping their presents. Merlin received a set of crystal vials from Snape, his own copy of Hogwarts A History with several chocolate frogs from Hermione, and a prank-kit from Zonko's courtesy of the Weasley twins. Draco sent him a box with very expensive looking green and gold dress robes, with a note saying, I know for a fact you have nothing to wear to my father's party. It starts at 7p.m. sharp and it's polite to bring a gift. I've also enclosed a gift for Silas. Happy Christmas.

"Silas, I have another present for you," Merlin said as he read the note. Silas, who was inspecting a wizard chess set from Snape and a VHS of Fox and the Hound from Hermione, looked up. Merlin handed him the small package that had been hidden inside his box. "It's from my friend, Draco."

It was a midnight blue wizard's hat. Silas rammed it on his head at once. "How do I look?" he asked. It was a little big, and Merlin couldn't see his eyes at all.

"You'll grow into it."

Merlin and Silas turned around to see Snape standing casually in the doorway. From the look it, he had been amusing himself by watching them unwrap their presents for a while. Silas held up the wizard chess set and beamed at him. "Thanks for the present, Snape sir!"

Snape nodded in reply. Merlin looked up at him and smiled, wondering whether or not the man had gotten his present. He wasn't going to bring it up though. Snape didn't seem the type who talked what he got for Christmas. "Breakfast is ready," Snape said. "Come eat and then you can go back to entertaining yourselves."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Is it toast and jam?"

But it wasn't. A frying pan filled with scrabbled eggs, along with some kippers and three tall glasses of orange juice had been laid on the table. "Is it safe to eat?" Merlin asked as poked the scrabbled eggs.

Snape' slip curled. "Of course not, I poisoned it so that I might enjoy a peaceful Christmas Day."

Silas, who was already on his second mouthful, choked and clamped his hands around his neck. Merlin smacked him hard on the back and Silas coughed, and then swallowed with difficulty.

"What?" he croaked, looking panicked toward Snape.

"Oh, not your portion," Snape said, and Merlin saw the smirk unfurling. "Just Merlin's."

For a moment, Silas stared at him and then he relaxed. "You're just joking. He's joking." He looked Merlin. "He's joking, right?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow and pointedly took a bite of his eggs. "Oh yes, tastes like poison," he said sarcastically and Silas giggled.

Snape cleaned the dishes with a few waves of his wand. Merlin got to his feet and stretched, popped his fingers. "All right," he said and he walked over to the fridge.

"We just ate," Silas protested when he saw Merlin taking out the ham.

"It's going to cook for a while," Merlin explained. He put the ham on the counter and then started taking out carrots and potatoes. He dug around in the drawers and finally pulled out a small knife and an oven pan.

"I want to help!" Silas said at once and he got to his feet.

Snape didn't offer to help, but he didn't leave the kitchen either. He sat at the table, drinking a cup of tea and reading a book, casting glances toward them every now and then as though worried that the pair of them might blow up his kitchen.

Merlin let Silas help him out for a short while, but eventually he took over and Silas sat on one of the counters, kicking his feet and watching. Silas glanced at Snape and then at the living and dinning room walls. "Snape!" he suddenly shouted and the professor gave a little jolt, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Silas beamed. "Let's put up some decorations while Merlin works."

"I—what?"

"Come on, I need your wand." And Silas jumped down from the cabinet and dragged Snape by his sleeve to the living room, rambling about putting Christmas lights along the bookshelves and streamers on the lights. Merlin peaked toward them and clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at the expression on Snape's face as Silas told him what to conjure.

"I something amusing, Evans?" Snape spat toward him and Merlin quickly shook his head. "Then I suggest you return to your cooking and try not to cause a catastrophe."

Merlin smirked. "Of course, what do you take me for?"

Merlin finished preparing everything and put the ham in the oven, wishing he'd had this wonderful contraption back when he was making meals for Arthur. Cooking things over a fire had always taken so much longer, mostly because he first needed to build and maintain said fire. He could hear Snape trying to explain to Silas that he couldn't conjure fake snow to fall from the ceiling from the living room as he tossed the salad, and wondered if this what Christmas was like in the Snape household. They didn't have any Santa's around the room or even a Nativity Scene. Instead they had each other, and Merlin liked the comfort that it brought.

"Okay," he called, putting the salad in the fridge. "The ham's going to cook for a while," he continued and he walked into the living room. "Looks nice," he remarked. They had lines of lights around the room now, and Silas looked up from adjusting what looked like fake icicles on the fireplace.

"Yeah?" he said and he glanced toward Snape. "See? It's good."

The professor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do take this opportunity to go outside and enjoy the freshly fallen snow. I will finish this," and he gestured to the decorations.

Silas raised an eyebrow, "You will?"

Snape shot him a glare, "Or I can banish all these things and you will enjoy Christmas Day without so much as a snowflake."

Merlin took Silas' hand and muttered in his ear, "I think he's thirty seconds away from giving detention," and steered him out the door. "Great idea sir," Merlin said behind him as Silas shot him a panicked expression. "We'll just go outside then—now," and he lead the way out the door.

"Is he mad at me?" Silas asked in an undertone as they walked along the street.

Merlin shrugged. "He's probably just cranky he has to babysit us," he said and he kicked some of the fresh snow. But Snape had been actually nice to them, which was a little weird in itself. "I mean, he probably wanted to spend Christmas alone."

"That's sad." Silas glanced back to the house. "And that house is really gloomy."

"I think he would've stayed at Hogwarts, actually." Keeping an eye on Quirrell. Merlin felt a flicker of panic at the thought, but knew that at least Dumbledore would be there to stop him if something happened.

"Oh." Silas fiddled with the zipper of his coat for a moment. "So, what would you think if I could go to Hogwarts too?"

"You?" Merlin repeated glancing at him. "That'd be awesome," he said smiling and putting his arm on Silas' shoulder. "But," and here his smile faltered, "you need to have magic in order to go, you know that right?" He would love it if Silas could come with him. He knew that Silas would have fun, but at the same time he was worried. He didn't want him anywhere near Quirrell or Tom, and unfortunately they were at Hogwarts. He didn't want to think about what might happen if Silas got hurt.

"I know," Silas said quickly. "Just saying, if."

"Well, it make it easier for you to meet Kor, that's for sure."

Silas smiled in reply, nodding. They walked once around the block, stopping to make snow angels on an untouched patch of snow near the pavement. Merlin was all for wandering around and looking for a park, but the snow had already soaked their clothes and Silas had started shivering. They came back, tip-toed past Snape in the living room, and went upstairs to change and try out Silas' chess set while they waited for the meat to finish cooking.

Merlin had never really liked chess, but wizard chess was amazing. They both weren't very good and it resulted in Merlin and Silas chasing each other's king around the board with little luck until the timer for the ham went off. They came back downstairs to see Snape turn the beeping off and take a peak at the meat.

"Well, it doesn't look like a catastrophe, I'll give you that," Snape said finally, but Merlin knew he was at least a little impressed.

And they sat down to Christmas Dinner.

Only A Boy

Draco straightened his robes.

A deep almost poisonous looking green, they had been embroidered with silver thread and real rare beetle shells that shifted color from silken blue, to violet. To be honest, he thought that it was a bit ostentatious but these were the robes his mother had selected for him and it'd be daft to argue with her.

Draco wasn't sure what he thought of this holiday. On the one hand he loved being back home, getting to sleep in his own bed and surrounded by the familiarity of childhood. But on the other, he felt like his relationship with his parents had changed, especially with his father. He didn't admire him anymore. It was difficult to find something to talk about with his father that didn't have anything to do with blood supremacy and upholding the Malfoy name. And, he certainly didn't like how his father degraded Merlin and seemed convinced that he would embarrass their family at the party.

If only they knew what that boy was capable of.

Behind him, there was a popping sound and he turned to see Dobby the House Elf. He had large flapping ears, enormous tennis-ball green eyes, and wore a filthy ripped pillowcase that had stains of snot and grime along the collar. Draco wrinkled his nose, the stench of the unwashed cloth sending his stomach into knots.

"Your mother is on her way, young master," Dobby squeaked, giving a low bow.

Draco gave him a stiff nod and the elf vanished at once, no doubt to return to the lower kitchens. He'd assigned the elf to always warn him whenever his parents were on their way to his room. He didn't like being surprised, simple as that. He turned back to the mirror, grateful that the stench had left. Why didn't Dobby wash that pillowcase once in a while? Honestly. Draco stared at his immaculate robes, at the expensive stitching and felt a twinge of embarrassment.

He wore this, and that elf wore a pillowcase.

Draco quickly shook himself. No, he'd never pitied that creature. What was he thinking? Dobby was their servant and nothing else mattered. But at the back of his mind he wondered what Merlin would think of this arrangement and a sick feeling seized his heart. Somehow, without even asking, he knew that Merlin wouldn't approve. And, for the first time in his life, he understood why.

There came a soft knock on his door. "Come in," Draco called without turning to look.

His mother entered and he heard a soft sigh as she caught sight of him. "Oh, that fits you wonderfully," she said walking over to him. "How does it feel, Draco?" she asked and she tugged on one of his sleeves. "If it's a bit short, I can still have it tailored before tonight."

"It's fine," Draco replied and he turned to look at her. She already had her makeup done and was wearing a shimmering silver dress. She put her hand on his cheek and gave him a small smile. She dropped her hand and glanced at her own reflection in the mirror.

"Has your friend confirmed he's coming?" she continued and Draco didn't need to ask about which friend she was referring to.

"He has," Draco drawled, hoping this conversation wasn't going where he thought it was. "He'll be arriving with Professor Snape."

Merlin had briefly explained his circumstances in a letter, as well as thanking him for the robes. Living with Snape, Draco didn't envy him. He could only imagine how dreary their Christmas had been.

"Ah, yes," his mother said with a nod. She hesitated a moment and then added, "You've become close with that boy, haven't you?"

"I suppose," and he shrugged. How could he tell her that Merlin was the first true friend he'd ever had? He wasn't even sure his parents understood what true friendship was.

"Then I will look forward to meeting him again," she said. She put her hand on Draco's shoulder and walked away but at the door she paused and glanced back, "But perhaps it might be better if you kept him away from our important guests."

She left, and Draco glared after her. That was it. That was all she had wanted to stay, and everything else had just been the set up. He clenched his fist and shook his head.

"Merlin," he ground out to his mirror. "Don't do anything stupid."

Only A Boy

"Merlin!"

"I'm coming!" Merlin shouted back, giving his reflection a one last critical look over. His face had finally cleared of bruises, even though it still felt tender to the touch. But he felt so strange wearing such expensive clothes. And he knew from one look that it was expensive, he'd been a servant after all and he knew what made something fit for a king or fit for a servant and this was certainly not servant material. But if he stood here any longer staring at himself Snape was sure to have an aneurysm.

"At last," Snape barked when Merlin came careening down the stairs. "Did the mirror finally grow tired of catering to your vanity?"

"Not at all," Merlin replied with a sly smile. "It enjoyed every minute of it."

Snape looked about ready to hurl him across the room. Yes, the Snape that Merlin remembered had finally returned, although the professor still strained himself to be at least somewhat nice to Silas. "Move along," the professor snapped. "We need to drop Silas off on our way."

"Why?" Silas asked, peaking his head out of the living room, where he'd been playing with his chess set. "Can't I just stay here?"

"Not alone," Snape grounded out. He waved his wand and the front door threw open with a mighty bang. "Now unless you wish to be late Merlin, I suggest you get outside and it wouldn't be a bad idea to drag your brother with you."

Resisting the urge to reply, Merlin ushered Silas outside with him and Snape shut the door with a click behind him. "Are we taking the Knight Bus?" Merlin asked him warily.

"Not enough time," Snape said. "We will be apparating."

"But Silas—" Merlin protested at once.

"He will survive," Snape grumbled, but he looked a little uncomfortable. Silas, who didn't have the slightest idea what apparition was, looked from Snape to Merlin with increasing panic. Snape put his hand on Merlin's and Silas' shoulder. "Brace yourself," he told Silas and Merlin felt the tug as the magic rose around them. The next minute they were twisted and warped, and reappeared in what looked like a muggle neighborhood.

Silas stumbled and Merlin caught him, noting his ashen face. "We're not—doing—that again," he panted, and he leaned over as though preparing to throw up. Merlin patted his back and glared up at Snape.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see in a moment." Snape glanced toward Silas and pulled a vial from his pocket. "It'll quell the nausea," he explained and the kid quickly drank it. Merlin saw some of the color return to his face and Silas straightened up, though he was still breathing rather heavily.

"You okay?" Merlin asked.

"I'll live," Silas retorted. "How come you're fine?"

Merlin blinked. "It—it wasn't my first time." He didn't miss the glance that Snape shot him, but hoped that the professor wouldn't say anything. To be honest, he had never felt sick after apparating. He suspected that it was because of the raw magic that it involved, and how he interacted with it – but it was just a theory.

"Oh," Silas nodded. He glanced up toward Snape. "How far away is this place?"

"Just around the corner," the professor replied and he led the way. Someone had put lights around the trees that lined the road, giving the neighborhood a winter wonderland look. Snape glanced back at them periodically as they walked, and finally came to a stop in front of a modest two-story townhouse. He rang the doorbell as Merlin and Silas came to stand beside him.

"I'll get it, Dad," a girl called from inside. Merlin blinked and glanced up at Snape.

"Wait is that—" he started to say but the door flew open and answered his question.

Hermione Granger stood before them, wearing a hand-woven red sweater with what looked like snowballs over it, her bushy brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her expression went blank when she saw them and as she caught sight of Merlin and her cheeks flushed with color.

"Merlin what are you— you look—" she spluttered and Merlin felt himself go red too, though he wasn't sure why.

"Um its—"

"Ah, Mr. Granger," Snape said effectively ending the conversation. A man who could only be Hermione's dad had appeared behind her. He was rather tall, with a thin face and brown hair. "I'm professor Snape."

"Yes! Please do come in," Mr. Granger said and he pulled Hermione back slightly.

"Afraid I'm just here to drop off Silas, we're in a bit of a rush."

"Silas?" Hermione repeated. She glanced toward the boy in question and broke into a wide grin. "So you're Silas?" she asked and she shrugged off her father's hand and took a step toward him. "It's great to finally meet you," she said and she glanced toward Merlin.

"You too!" Silas replied. "You're Hermione, right? Merlin's told me all about you."

"Has he?"

Merlin coughed. "Yeah, I mean I told him about you and Draco."

"Right," she said but her eyes seemed unnaturally bright.

"We'll be watching Silas for a few hours," Mr. Granger explained and he looked up at Snape. "You sure you wouldn't like to come in?"

"Thank you, but we really must be going," Snape countered with a polite nod. "Behave," he said to Silas, though the boy was still staring at Hermione.

"Where are you going?" she asked quickly as Snape turned to walk back down the steps.

"Draco's party," Merlin answered. As soon as he said it he felt awkward. It would have been nice if she could come with them but from the look of understanding on her face, she knew exactly why she couldn't.

"Have fun," she said and she waved. "Tell Draco hello, for me."

Merlin nodded, a little taken aback. "I will," he said. "Sorry to trouble you like this."

"Not at all! I'm sure Silas and I will have fun."

"Merlin!" Snape called, already getting ready to round the corner and Merlin scratched the back of his head.

"Gotta go, see you!"

Hermione nodded and he turned to leave. "Oh! And thanks for the Christmas present!" she shouted after him. Merlin grinned and waved, before jogging to catch up with Snape at the spot where they'd appeared.

"What did you get her?" Snape asked when Merlin reached him.

"Oh, a book bag with a feather-light charm on it," he said with a shrug. "She has a habit of carrying a lot of heavy books with her so I thought—yeah," Merlin shook his head. "How did you know—"

"You are friends?" Snape supplied and he put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I'm afraid it was blatantly obvious. And since Silas clearly wouldn't have been welcome to come with us, I thought this was the best place for him."

Merlin nodded in agreement and the next minute they were apparating once again. They reappeared in front of an enormous manor, with several other people appearing beside them. Merlin followed Snape up the steps and into the beautifully decorated entrance hall. Floating golden orbs illuminated ribbons and tinsel wrapped around bannisters, with an enormous Christmas tree in the center of the hall.

Next to the door stood the Malfoy family. Lucius was shaking someone's hand, while his wife welcomed them inside. Draco stood beside his mother, though to be honest Merlin thought he looked a bit bored with all the festivities.

"Now," Snape said turning to Merlin and speaking in an undertone. "I will not be able to watch your every move."

"So don't make a scene blah blah—" Merlin finished with a sigh. "Draco has already given me the same speech."

Snape appraised him for a moment before nodding. "Then I should hope you remember it. Do you have your gift?"

Merlin nodded and withdrew a small package from his inside pocket. "You mean the gift you gave me to give to them?" he said with a smirk.

"I would keep that information to yourself."

"Ah, Severus!" Lucius Malfoy had caught sight of them and Snape turned and walked toward him with a polite smile. Merlin followed a few steps behind, fine with being ignored for the time being.

"So glad you could make it," Lucius continued in a silky polite voice that left Merlin confused about whether or not he actually meant his words. "And this must be—" his grey eyes fell on Merlin.

"You remember Mr. Evans," Snape introduced.

Merlin almost wished that he hadn't reminded Lucius of their first encounter. Hoping to somehow remedy the poor impression he'd left on them last time, he inclined his head. "Do pardon my previous behavior," he said and he withdrew the gift from his pocket and held it toward Narcissa. "Perhaps it is not too late to make amends?"

Draco was staring at him. His mother looked a little startled as well and she cast her son a quick glance before accepting the gift. "Why Draco, I don't think you gave your friend's manners due credit," she said.

"Only so that you might be mildly impressed," Merlin answered also shooting Draco a glance.

"Indeed?" Lucius said. "Draco, why don't you give your friend a tour of the manor? I'm sure he's not used to such extravagance."

"Nor to such exquisite taste," Merlin said, which was clearly not the reaction Lucius had been expecting. "Oh, and it seems I am holding up the line. You clearly have more important guests to meet," Merlin continued, a smirk tugging on the edge of his mouth. In truth, startling them was almost more entertaining than speaking his mind. Merlin turned to Snape, nodded and started walking away before pausing and glancing back.

Lucius looked as though he didn't understand what had just happened. "Why don't we begin that tour, Draco?" Merlin called and Draco gave a little start before nodding and quickly following him into the next room where a table with Hors d'oeuvre lined the back and all the guests intermingled.

"How did—what was that?" Draco asked once they were out of earshot.

"You asked me to be polite," Merlin said shrugging.

"That wasn't being polite. I don't even know what that was," he said starting to laugh. "The look on my father's face—" he shook his head chuckling.

"He seemed rather disappointed he didn't have a reason to throw me out," Merlin said grinning too.

"I'm sure he was." Draco smiled. "Where did you learn to do that?"

King Arthur's Court. "Here and there," Merlin said and he glanced around the room. "Do you actually know all these people?"

"Not personally, although Pansy and Blaise have already arrived. We have a second parlor for the students," he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Ah, in case the children cause a scene?" Merlin supplied.

"My parents are all about appearances. I'm sure they'd rather that no children were allowed but as I'm here," he sighed again. "Come on."

But as they were walking across the room toward another hallway, a man clipped Merlin on the elbow and he stumbled. "So sorry my dear boy!" and Merlin came face to face with a man in lime-green bowler hat.

"Not at all," Merlin quickly said. "It was probably my fault."

Draco made a choking noise.

"And Draco, good to see you again," the man continued with a jolly smile. "The parents finally let you go?"

"Uh, Merlin this is—"

"Merlin! Is that your name? Splendid name. I can introduce myself Draco, thank you. I'm Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."

Now Merlin completely understood the reason for Draco's ashen face. "O-oh," he said as the Minister of Magic shook his hand. He swallowed and tried to regain his calm. "Very nice to make your acquaintance."

"Pish posh, children should talk like that." He took another drink from his glass. "Enjoying your first year at Hogwarts, I trust?"

"Yes," Draco said hurriedly. "It's fantastic."

"Good to hear! Good to hear." Another man came behind him and tapped Cornelius Fudge on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. "Oh really? I must meet him," the minister said with a flourish. "Well, I must be going, very nice chat," and the Minister of Magic wandered off.

Merlin and Draco stood there frozen for a long moment. "I won't mention this if you don't," Merlin said without even looking at his friend.

"Absolutely not."

Luckily, they didn't run into anyone else on their way to the youth parlor. A pool table had been set up in the middle of the room and Pansy was watching as Blaise played with Terrence and two other boys from the Slytherin Quidditch team. Though both he and Draco were invited to join them, it was really much more entertaining to watch. Pansy cozied up to Draco at once, trying to get him to talk about what events were in store later in the night.

After over an hour of lounging around, Merlin got to his feet and stretched. He honestly thought it'd be more fun watching the adults play politics than watching Blaise challenge Terrence for the fifth time. Draco came to stand beside him, looking tired.

"Finally shake off Pansy?" Merlin asked with a sneer.

"She went to use the bathroom." He shook his head. "I don't even remember what she was talking about."

Merlin laughed. "Prepare yourself for when she comes back. Oh, by the way, Hermione says hello."

Draco looked surprised. "Did you see her today?"

Merlin nodded. "We dropped Silas off at her place before coming here. Snape didn't want to leave him alone at home."

"Ah." Draco paused a moment. "Did she give you a Christmas present?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah, a book." He surveyed Draco for a moment. "Wait, did she give you one too?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Is there any reason she shouldn't have?"

"Well no," Merlin said but he was surprised. Yes they were talking, but he didn't think that they were friends. It was like the train ride from school, they had actually gotten along and called each other by their first names. When had they started getting along like that? "What did she give you?"

"Balto."

Merlin stared. "She gave you a muggle movie?"

"Yeah, I was kind of like – how the hell am I supposed to watch this?"

Merlin shrugged, but his head was spinning. "When did you guys become friends?" he asked in as casual manner as possible.

"We aren't," Draco snapped back. "We've just reached an understanding."

"I think that's called friendship."

"Please don't say that out loud," Draco groaned. "If my father overhears he'll probably transfer me to Durmstrang." He shook his head, and though Merlin waited he didn't elaborate any further.

"Is this understanding a secret or something?" he prodded, unable to quell his curiosity.

"Well you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Draco's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. "Wait, I didn't mean—" he began quickly but Merlin spoke over him.

"No, you did," he said softly.

Draco grimaced and then grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to the far corner of the room. "It's just—" and he glanced around to make sure that none of the others were listening in. "I wish you'd let us help you. Hermione and I can keep your secrets, you know."

Just like you want to help me, I want to help you but I can't. So let them help you instead.

He'd made a pinky promise to Silas, hadn't he? A promise to be more honest with his friends and to let them help him. His gut reaction was to play it off, "Help me with what?" and pretend there was nothing more important going on. But they both knew that was a lie. Draco knew Merlin was lying to him, and he was his friend anyway.

Didn't that count for something?

"Do you have somewhere private we can talk?" Merlin finally asked. "There's something I have to tell you."