The Legacy of Salazar
The echo of the cavernous Chamber of Secrets lingered in his ears, Slytherin's mosaic danced behind his eyes as lies filled the air. The diary with a whole burned through its heart sat on the desk. And as the black ink running up his arm stained his skin, Merlin told a story of fiction weaved into truth.
He had received a note he thought was from Lockhart to meet on the second floor, at the message on the wall outside the girls' bathroom. He had found Ginny there, who discovered a clue about where to find the Chamber of Secrets. They found it inside the bathroom. He told Ginny to grab a teacher while he stood guard. While his back was turned, he was hit over the head and woke up on the ground next to Ginny, in front of a statue of Salazar Slytherin. A light shone from Ginny's pocket and Tom Riddle materialized out of the diary. He took Ginny's wand, and commanded the basilisk to attack him.
Ginny shifted out of the corner of his eye, burying her tear-stained face against the crux of her mother's arm. Severus Snape's pallor worsened as he spoke, and he began to tread a path back and forth behind his desk. On the couch, Florean had his head in his hands, hiding his expression while Silas watched Merlin with large hazel eyes.
"Please, go on," Dumbledore said, sitting in a conjured purple chair.
So Merlin continued. He defeated the basilisk through a combination of luck and clever use of small spaces to collapse a portion of the tunnel on it. He used the basilisk fang to destroy the diary before Riddle drained Ginny completely. She woke up after he vanished, and together they climbed out of the Chamber of Secrets—to find Lockhart sitting there at the entrance.
"Yes, speaking of—" Dumbledore said with a shadowed glanced in Snape's direction. An odd chill ran through the room, the fury of the Headmaster like tangible energy.
"Minerva is escorting him into custody as we speak," Snape replied, each word on the edge of a snarl.
"I will have to send word to Madam Bones advising her of the, ah—specifics of his situation," Dumbledore said almost to himself. He paused, and regarded Merlin again. "I must say, I'm impressed."
"Sir?" Merlin asked, but the twinkle in the man's eye was all the answer he was going to get.
"So how—how did Ginny get involved?" Mr. Weasley asked, wiping his eyes behind his glasses.
At this, Ginny gave a shuddering sob. She lifted her head to look around at them. "I—I found the diary in one of my textbooks," she said, her voice thick. "I thought it was just a blank one someone had forgotten about."
"Ginny," Mr. Weasley said, reaching over to wipe his daughter's wet cheek. "You should've told me or your mother when it started writing back."
"I know," the girl sobbed, flinging her arms around him, a fresh wave of tears shaking her shoulders.
"Never trust anything, if you can't see where it keeps its brain," Mr. Weasley whispered comfortingly against her ear. He held her like that for a long moment, Mrs. Weasley rubbing soft circles into her daughter's back.
Merlin looked away. His heart had conjured a reminder of his own mother and the sudden nostalgia left him feeling a little empty. He felt someone touch his hand and started, only to see Silas taking his hand and smiling up at him. Then he wrapped Merlin in a tight hug, and the feeling of emptiness lessened. He glanced over Snape who had bent to whisper something into Dumbledore's ear.
"Quite right, too," he heard the Headmaster respond, and Dumbledore stood up. Silas let go of Merlin and stood beside him, watching as Dumbledore came to stand in front of Merlin. A little bewildered, Merlin glanced back at Snape before meeting that twinkling gaze.
"Merlin, I can't thank you enough for accomplishing what we couldn't," and to his amazement, Dumbledore inclined his head. Florean looked up, and Merlin swore his eyes looked redder than before. "As such, it is only fitting you receive an award for Special Services to the School and—yes—I think two hundred points, one each for the safe return of Miss Weasley and the defeat of the basilisk."
"I—well, anytime," Merlin breathed after a moment, unsure what to say. He gave a sheepish smile and the Headmaster beamed. And with that, Florean propelled himself off the couch.
"You scared the bloody hell out of me, you know kiddo?" and he gave Merlin a tight hug. Then he cleared his throat and stepped back. "I'm proud of you."
Merlin's throat felt too thick for speech.
From the corner, the Weasley family stood up as well. Flanked by her parents, one hand in both of theirs, Ginny lead them over to stand before him.
"Mr. Evans—Merlin," Mr. Weasley began, a little stilted. The creases of his eyes were somewhat blotchy. "I can't—if there's ever any way for us to repay you—"
Mrs. Weasley threw her arms around Merlin, wrapping him in a tight hug. That feeling came back like a lump in his throat, the warm hug of a mother. "You're always welcome at the Burrow, dear. We owe you a debt that can never be repaid," she said.
"And if Ron ever makes takes a crack at you again, I'll hex him," said Ginny with a watery smile. Mrs. Weasley let go of Merlin, and gave a firm nod in agreement.
"I'll be having a word with that boy."
Merlin laughed. He felt like he just became an honorary Weasley. Wait until he told Draco.
"I think a feast is in order," Dumbledore said mildly and they all turned to stare at him. Merlin didn't know the time but as he had gone into the chamber some time after dinner, it had to be past curfew by now.
"A celebration is needed after this ordeal and we need to inform everyone what has happened tonight. Severus, could you inform the other Heads of House to bring the students to the Great Hall for an important announcement?"
Snape didn't argue. He inclined his head, spared a glance for Merlin, and then swept from the room.
"Can I come?" Silas asked, after the door had shut.
"Of course! I would be delighted if you would all attend. Moppet!" called Dumbledore and there was a little pop as a House Elf materialized beside him. It had very long black hairs poking out of its bat-like ears. It gave a low bow, and spoke in soft high voice.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has called for Moppet, sir?"
Dumbledore bent down slightly. "Could you inform the kitchens to prepare a midnight feast? Light affair, quick dishes, a mix of sweets and savory?"
As they talked, Merlin glanced over at the diary.
"Oh, of course! Headmaster Dumbledore, sir!" and the elf disappeared with another pop.
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, straightening again. "Let's head up, shall we? Miss Weasley would you prefer to stop by the infirmary?"
Ginny wiped her eyes. "No—I want to come."
"Then I will insist you make a stop tomorrow. Ignoring what has happened will not make things easier."
Ginny swallowed, but gave a small nod and Dumbledore smiled at her before turning to Merlin. Without saying a word, he picked up the diary and handed it to him.
"But that's rubbish now, isn't it?" Florean said, frowning.
"It no longer works, yes," Dumbledore agreed. "However it belongs now to Merlin to do with it what he will."
Merlin looked up to see a confused Florean watching him. He shrugged. And pocketed it.
They reached the Great Hall ahead of the rest of the school, though Merlin could hear footsteps on the bannister as they strode inside. Ginny and her parents made a beeline for the Gryffindor table, but one look from the Headmaster told Merlin couldn't run away yet. Not until after he had spoken to the school.
"We will save you a seat," Florean promised, and he dragged Silas over to a spot on the end corner of the Slytherin table.
As Merlin came to stand in front of the High Table, the first students began to filter inside. Many were still in their pajamas, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Others were wide-awake in their school robes. Merlin saw his fellow Slytherins looked wary and alert. He caught Draco's eye among the crowd and the blond visibly relaxed. When others caught sight of him, a buzz of whispers began to resound within the hall. Some were pointing at him.
Merlin glanced down at himself and supposed he shouldn't be so surprised. He was still covered in dirt and grime from the tunnels and his right arm was coated in black ink from shoulder to fingertips—The blood of Tom Riddle.
He wanted a bath after this. Magic didn't quite leave him with the same feeling of cozy warm freshness that he desperately needed.
The Gryffindors arrived last, the Weasley clan in front, all of whom embodied such an expression of harassed stress that Merlin felt somewhat bad for them. Then, Ron's voice rang out across the hall.
"GINNY!"
In a second, Fred, George, Percy, and Ron had dashed through the crowd – others stumbling in their haste to move out of the way. Ginny started crying again, and got up so they could all wrap her in a hug.
"I'm sure you are all very curious to know what has happened tonight," Dumbledore said, and Merlin wondered how he managed to project such a kind, calm town to every corner of the space.
The noise in the hall tapered off at once. Merlin dimly noted that the other staff members had emerged from the side door to take their seats at the table behind him.
"As you are all well aware, earlier today a message was left on the wall of the Second Floor corridor underneath the first one." Dumbledore turned to appraise Merlin, and though the back of his neck burned as every eye in in the Great Hall turned to stare at him, Merlin lifted his head.
Get used to it.
"Merlin stopped the Heir of Slytherin and rescued Miss Weasley and himself from the Chamber of Secrets. I have heard the full account of what happened down there, and I must ask you not to pressure either of them to share more than what they wish. For his bravery and resourcefulness," Dumbledore waved his wand and a golden trophy appeared in the air. He took hold of it and turned to Merlin.
"I present Merlin with this award for Special Services to the School and two hundred points to Slytherin House!"
There was a great shout of whooping glee from the Slytherin table at this, spearheaded by Silas who had jumped to his feet to clap. Merlin distinctly heard Blaise shout his name incredulously amid the cacophony. The other houses joined in after a moment, the Gryffindors following the Weasleys in a late but enthusiastic cheer.
Merlin took the award from Dumbledore, somewhat surprised to see his name already on the plaque on the base. Dumbledore joined in the applause once his hands were free, and with a gesture sent Merlin to take a seat next to Silas on the end corner of the table.
Blaise leaned over from across the table. "You do realize this means you single-handedly won us the House Cup?" he said laughing. Merlin didn't get a chance to reply, for Dumbledore cleared his throat and the hall quieted again.
"Yes, well done. Now, in a somewhat unrelated matter, I must also inform everyone that Lockhart will no longer be teacher Defense Against the Dark Arts."
At this, everyone exploded into loud cheers. "Almost unrelated," Silas repeated in Merlin's ear with a furtive look.
Merlin pressed a finger to his lips, and winked.
"Now," Dumbledore said once the hall had quieted. "I'm sure you're all curious who will take up the position in the meantime. For the remainder of the year, 7th year NEWT students will take turns leading lessons based on their specialties. Ask your Heads of the House for the particulars, though I will ask you to wait until the morning as they are just finding out now themselves."
Merlin couldn't stop his snort of laughter, and he wasn't the only one. "Now, enough of business." And just like that, the tables filled with food. "Class has been canceled tomorrow in light of the revelries, so enjoy yourselves!"
Merlin was surrounded before he had time to blink. But no one asked him what happened, much to his surprise. Instead, he had dozens of heartfelt apologies, many thanks and cheers of congratulations, and more than one student asked if he might teach a Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"He's a second year," Florean replied to this with a laugh. Then, he got to his feet and whispered to Merlin that he wanted to talk to his Professor, and drifted toward the high table.
"Cool arm, by the way Merlin," said Silas, poking it and then looking at the smudge on his finger.
"Yeah!" chorused half a dozen other people.
"Is it—" one Ravenclaw asked, trailing off somewhat significantly.
"Its just ink," Merlin assured them. "It'll come out after a good bath."
And then Ron Weasley was there, and a hush swept over the group. Ron marched forward until he stood right in front of him, and Merlin saw his eyes dart down to the black arm before looking up again.
"I reckon—you're all right," he said. There was a snort of laughter behind Merlin and an arm was slung around Merlin's shoulders. He looked up to see George Weasley, and his brother Fred sliding past several disgruntled looking Slytherins.
"We told him, didn't we Fred?"
"If Ginny's with Merlin, everything will be just fine."
George shook his head. "Wanker didn't believe us."
"Hey!" Ron said, his ears flushing with colour. "I'm trying to apologize here, would you just clear off?"
"No can do, brother dear."
"We're under specific instructions to make this as painful as possible."
Merlin glanced over at the Gryffindor table where Ginny still sat with her parents. She caught his eye and winked before turning to talk to Ravenclaw girl with snowy blond hair.
And as Ron mumbled out how he was sorry about being such a jerk this year, and Hermione pushed her way over to him with tears in her eyes and a broad smile, while Silas asked if he wanted a chicken leg—Merlin decided not to worry about anything for the rest of the night.
Only A Boy
It didn't make sense.
Draco Malfoy rolled over in his four-poster, eyes shut tight, willing himself to sleep and yet—it didn't make sense. In all the commotion there'd been no opportunity for a private word with Merlin. Everyone had trudged back to the dormitories at an absurd hour for a bunch of school children. But though his eyes ached with tiredness and he felt exhaustion cling to his skin like a wet coat, his mind was alive.
Merlin had hung behind in the entrance hall to say goodbye to Silas and Florean Fortescue. Draco hadn't heard him come back yet, but then again Merlin did say something about needing a bath. But Merlin's absence wasn't what plagued his thoughts.
Dumbledore's explanation left much to be desired. It held implications and clever innuendos. His father always said the man had a silver tongue as cunning as any Slytherin. There was a reason Dumbledore was a political titian, Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock for the Wizengamot. So, Draco tossed and turned.
I have heard the full account of what happened down there – in other words, Dumbledore knew they had questions and he intentionally neglected to explain the finer details because you're children.
The large reward of house points was both a bribed apology and a distraction. As if he were truly sorry he couldn't be more specific but Draco knew. By controlling the information, he controlled the conclusions the situation would create. His father did it all the time through the Daily Prophet.
In a somewhat unrelated matter, I must also inform everyone Lockhart will no longer be teaching—the subject change, the carless notice, the somewhat—the somewhat—how did Lockhart tie into this story? He wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, they would have announced that but how did he get sacked? And who was the Heir of Slytherin?
Draco rolled over again, and realizing the futility shoved away his covers and drew back the hangings of his four-poster. The dormitory was dark. Someone snored away in their corner—Draco suspected either Crabbe or Goyle or both—but then a figure standing by the window made him realize he hadn't heard Merlin return.
The window faced into the bottom of the lake. Not real glass of course, an enchantment on the stone made the surface clear and smooth. He could just see a twinge of green shining through the darkened waters. Merlin stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out into the watery depths. It looked like it was going to would take more than one bath to remove the black stain from Merlin's arm.
Draco shifted and as his bed gave a creak, Merlin cast a soft glance back.
"Sounds like you have questions," Merlin whispered, no doubt having heard him tossing and turning.
Draco got out of bed and joined him next to the window. He hesitated, staring at the shadow of a reed just visible in the water. "It just doesn't make sense. What really happened down there?"
He turned to look at Merlin and found his friend gazing intently at him. Draco could see him considering his response, weighing what information to share and what to withhold. Then, he waved his hand toward the others and Draco felt a soft ripple of magic as gold glinted in Merlin's eyes.
"Even the Headmaster doesn't know what really happened," Merlin said. And he told Draco how the Dark Lord had controlled Ginny through the diary. Draco felt his insides clench and unwind, thick and hot. A diary belonging to one Tom Riddle—he could recall seeing the name before in his father's study. After all, his father would own an object like that. The Malfoy's had a secret passage beneath the drawing room floor for items not meant for public display.
Draco chewed on his tongue, but the words were already forming in his mouth. "I think my father somehow slipped her that diary." Merlin didn't look surprised; rather, a look of resigned confirmation crossed his features.
"I don't know how or why." Draco took a slow breath, steeling himself. "But I can guess." He could see where this conversation was taking him, see himself going to Professor Snape—to the Headmaster and sending the Auror's after his parents. He recoiled against the very image of it behind his eyes, felt it like a suffocating weight on his chest. The sensation settled and with it the grim reality.
"I cannot betray my own family," said Draco, clenching his hands at his sides. "Anymore than I could betray you. I don't know why it's turning into either the Dark Lord or you, but I know I trust you. Perhaps it's because you already beat the guy twice. But, I cannot abandon my family. Even for you."
Merlin still didn't say anything. Draco felt a burst of anxiety and lost the careful calm he'd been desperately holding onto. "So what am I supposed to do? Because I'm floundering here, Merlin. I've never had to choose between what was right and loyalty to my family because they've always been one and the same. How do I help you and protect them, when I can't even figure out a way to talk to my father these days? What's the correct answer here?"
What was going on behind Merlin's eyes? They were equal parts present and far away, as if the question that Draco posed somehow held greater implications. He didn't know what he expected, perhaps some long complicated answer or a stupid riddle that left him wrestling with his morals. He'd take anything. Merlin opened his mouth and then, paused.
"I think—you should come with me."
Without waiting for an answer, Merlin began to walk toward the door. He glanced once back at Draco to see that he was following, before continuing out the dormitory. Nonplussed, Draco grabbed his shoes and followed him.
Merlin didn't speak as they left the dungeons and scaled two floors. In the girls lavatory he uttered a soft hiss near the basin of sinks, and Draco knew exactly where they were going. He could hardly breathe. After all, he'd dreamed of entering the Chamber of Secrets ever since he'd first heard the story from his father.
He followed Merlin through the caverns until they reached an enormous hall, lined with columns, and then until he saw the ancient statue standing the height of the space, but that's not where Merlin stopped. Instead, he went to an expanse of the wall on the left and hissed again.
Draco stared as a door emerged from the stone and slid open. Merlin gestured for him to go first, and though somewhat confused now, Draco stepped into the room. He saw the mosaic of fettered gold and rhinestones, and his breath caught in his throat as he recognized the face. He stared, heart thudding as Merlin entered the space and began a brief conversation in Parseltongue with the mosaic of Salazar Slytherin. Then, he turned to Draco and smiled.
"This is the true history of your house, the tradition the honor. This is the why and the how." He put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Take all the time you need."
And then Merlin strode out of the room. Draco watched for a moment as his friend crossed to the giant statue and leaned against one of the massive legs. Draco jerked his bead back to the Founder Salazar Slytherin.
"Listen here my young snake, for this is the legacy of which you are born."
And as Draco sunk to the stone to listen, Merlin began to hiss softly through the stone statue to the Basilisk that resided there.
Only A Boy
By the time Draco had finished asking his questions, and Merlin led them back through the Chamber of Secrets and into Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, it was almost time for breakfast. Merlin glanced back at Draco. He hadn't said a word after leaving the mosaic with Salazar Slytherin. Draco had walked silent, lost in thought, a darkened look of calculation in his grey eyes.
Merlin knew better than to break the quiet.
They turned the corner, down the first flight of stairs and found Lucius Malfoy in their path. He paused, mid-step at the sight of them, his eyes traveling slowly from Draco to rest on Merlin.
"Mr. Malfoy," Merlin said in polite curiosity, "What brings you to Hogwarts?" He paused, and he added lightly, "At this hour?"
He saw a twitch in the man's jaw. Lucius had never looked at Merlin quite like that before.
"Why, you as a matter of fact. You've had everyone in an uproar, and I must say even the School Governors aren't quite sure what to make of it. I'm just on my way to have a word with the Headmaster but," and he let the word dangle for a moment, still watching Merlin with guarded caution. "Yes, this is even better. Would you mind accompanying me?"
"Not at all," Merlin said with a soft glance at Draco. "I'll join you later."
Draco merely nodded in reply and brushed past them. Something in Draco's expression had Lucius trailing the boy down the stairs with his eyes. Once Draco had rounded the corner out of sight, he turned back to Merlin. If Merlin didn't know any better, he'd say the man wore the same exact expression as his son. For a moment Lucius didn't speak, then he lead the way up the flight of steps and up a corridor. They were still at least three staircases away from the Headmaster's office when Lucius came to an abrupt stop in the corridor.
"Mr. Malfoy—?" he began, but before Merlin could finish, Lucius seized his arm and threw him into a darkened classroom. Merlin stumbled back against one of the desks, and stared up at him.
Lucius Malfoy had dropped the pretense. The veiled threat in his tone had vanished, in favor of a thundercloud across his features and a wand aimed carefully at Merlin's heart. And Merlin finally understood why Lucius had earned the reputation he did.
The man was dangerous.
"I think it is time we had a conversation," Lucius said, taking a slow step toward him, wand steady in his hand. "After all, you have somehow managed to single-handedly crumple the political climate in less than two years. A feat many young aspiring politicians would be proud of, let alone a twelve year old orphan."
Gone was the oiled drawl, carefully tailored to sweeten the ears of bureaucracy. Instead, each careful word uttered like melted silver resounded in the air like electrical current—a shuddered sharpness that warned of violence.
His grey eyes never left Merlin's face. "And it seems you've done it again. In the last twelve hours, I received a letter detailing that this Heir of Slytherin had kidnapped you and Miss Weasley and the school would be taking steps to complete evacuation, only to receive another letter hours later announcing all was well, and you presented with an Award for Special Services to the School." Lucius Malfoy's lip curled in a poor representation of a smile. "And Gilderoy Lockhart is arrested?" He shook his head, and then the smile fell from his face.
Merlin knew he had the power to drag the floor with the man, but he still felt a ripple of anxiety at the expression of cold dispassion.
"You have my undivided attention."
Merlin cleared his throat. "Why, Mr. Malfoy I don't know what you are implying…"
The sharp smile returned. "Let us speak frankly, Mr. Evans. That was the first time my son has ever failed to look me in the eyes and I would like to know why. What happened last night?"
And Merlin saw it just briefly; beneath the bared teeth was a worried father. He straightened up, drawing strength in his stance. "Tom Riddle lured me into the Chamber of Secrets, controlling Ginny Weasley because his curiosity got the better of him. I'm sure you're familiar with the Dark Lord's diary?"
Lucius Malfoy's face became unreadable. He didn't reply and Merlin went on with a shrug, "I destroyed it."
There was a moment's pause, and then Lucius cleared his throat. "Why?"
"Because the Dark Lord is a liar and a fraud, and a rather poor example of Slytherin House," and Merlin was surprised by the vitriol he suddenly found in his voice. "He took the ideals of Slytherin and twisted them to manipulate others into joining his personal quest for power. I will not stand for it. I will not let him drag Slytherin's name through the mud, nor will I allow him to pervert the magic of the earth to such monstrosities."
Lucius stared at him. "What do you intend to do?"
"Put an end to this needless bigotry for starters, and restore our reputation. When did Slytherin stop being the house of the clever, powerful, leaders and turn into the house known for power-hungry sociopaths destined for evil?" Merlin met his eyes. "You know exactly what I intend to do."
Lucius continued to stare at him. Then, he seemed to find himself with a laugh of disbelief. He regarded Merlin with something close to bewilderment. "You are most interesting, Merlin Evans," he said and he put away his wand. "But you are only a boy. What can you do in the face of an army?"
Merlin blinked. "Why, have an army of my own, of course," he said, as if this were obvious. He enjoyed the understanding color Malfoy's face. "But if displays of power are what you require, I will return in kind. You do not see those that hide under my command."
"You—" Lucius didn't seem able to find the words. There was unmistakable fear behind his eyes now. "You're only twelve."
"Tom Riddle was twelve at one point too," Merlin said and he took a step toward Lucius, and he decided to give him a glimpse. The magic swept up from his being, a crackle of energy thrown in a whirlwind. His eyes glittered gold in the shadowed classroom, and Lucius Malfoy stepped back.
Merlin took a deep breath and the magic in the air dissipated. "Now," he said, almost casual. "It's going to be up to you whether or not you join me. I don't use fear and violence to ensure loyalty, and I'm sure Draco has told you all about my political affiliations. But I will defend those under my protection by any means necessary, if I have to."
Lucius Malfoy didn't say anything for a long moment. He had knocked the man off balance, Merlin knew that but if he pushed too hard he would become nothing more than a dangerous threat rather than an ally.
"Think about it. I'll be here when you're ready." And he strode toward the door to the classroom. Lucius did not stop him, but just before Merlin pulled open the door he cleared his throat.
"I don't think you realize the scope of this war," Lucius said in an urgent whisper.
"What makes you say that?" Merlin countered.
Lucius didn't speak but his eyes told Merlin the answer, and he gave a soft chuckle in response. "They say if you want to get an idea of the way politics are changing, see where the Malfoy's stand because for centuries they always seem to know when it's time to jump ship. After all you avoided a rather lengthy sentence in Azkaban by flying colors I'm told."
"How dare you—"
"I thought we were speaking frankly, Mr. Malfoy?" Merlin interrupted, his tone frosty. "I'm more than pleased to have a discussion with you but do not insult my intelligence. I am well aware this was a major play to maintain favor with the Dark Lord, or did you forget I had a lengthy conversation with Tom Riddle?"
"Well," Malfoy's lip curled. "Is that your plan? To blackmail me? You have no proof."
"Oh, I don't need proof." He saw Malfoy's eyes ripple in confusion and then as dawn in realization.
"You've turned my son against me." Lucius had his wand pointed at Merlin's throat in a heartbeat, his grey eyes like shards of ice.
Merlin remained unfazed. "Your son has learned enough to see where the lines are being drawn in the sand, Mr. Malfoy. I would take a look around you—and decide what matters most to you."
Lucius didn't move, but Merlin could see the gears moving behind his eyes.
"The last thing I want to do is breakup your family loyalties, Mr. Malfoy," Merlin went on softly. "You do not know me well enough to trust me, I understand. But Draco does—and I ask that you trust him."
Slowly, Lucius lowered his wand. "Draco still has much to learn."
"Perhaps," Merlin said. "But a world ruled by the Dark Lord will not be a better place for anyone except the King at the top. If you are content to play the Jester until your inevitable execution, that's up to you but I will not let you drag anyone down with you."
Merlin pulled open the door. "You best head off to the Headmaster, I'm sure he's expecting you." And he walked back down the hall toward breakfast, leaving Lucius Malfoy to stare after him.
Only A Boy
"That was rather quick," Draco remarked when Merlin joined him at breakfast.
"He didn't waste time making his point," Merlin said with a significant look. This wasn't something they could discuss in public. Not that they would've had time to for at that moment, the post arrived and Merlin watched as a small army of owls glided in his direction. Before they even landed, he could tell three bore howlers.
"Well, it looks like everyone heard about last night," Merlin said with a grimace as he poked at the smoking envelopes.
"Lockhart had a lot of devoted fans," Draco said frowning. "You better get it over with."
Merlin paused, "Yeah, except I don't feel like being shouted at by ignorant strangers." He shook his head and waved his hand. The three red envelopes vanished from the table. "There we go. Now, let's see here—"
Five letters were from furious Lockhart fans. He skimmed one and snorted with laughter, showing it to Draco. "This one is telling me off for even considering that I'm worthy of Lockhart's envy, I mean—" Merlin picked up another envelope and felt magic beneath his palm. "This one seems to have actually tried to send me a curse. I think it's about time the world found out about what a fraud Lockhart is."
"Oh, they're about to find out," said Blaise, taking a seat cross them.
"What do you mean?"
Blaise grinned. "Well you see," he said dramatically. "A group of us got together after the feast and sent a letter to the Daily Prophet. He took a look swig of pumpkin juice. "Told them there was reason to believe Lockhart had taken credit for all his achievements. They're no doubt starting the investigation as we speak."
"You kidding? It's the takedown article of a lifetime. Rita Skeeter probably went to Transylvania herself," Merlin said with a laugh.
With classes canceled for the day, Merlin and Draco slipped outside after breakfaster to take a long walk around the lake. Merlin reiterated his conversation with Lucius. When he'd finished, Draco had come to a stop, staring out across the frozen expanse.
He gave a low whistle. "You did it, Merlin," Draco said, shaking his head. "You scared him."
Merlin didn't know what to say. He paused to pick up a pebble visible beneath the snow. He chucked it against the frozen lake, listening to the wobbling reverberation that echoed across the surface and then back to them.
"He will come around," Draco went on with an air of confidence. "We Malfoy's know when the wind is changing. Give him some time to think about it. He'll make up his min by the time term ends."
Merlin hesitated, kicking at the snow. "He's most scared of losing you," he said slowly. "I think he'll pick whatever option will keep you safe."
"Yeah." Draco fell silent, a shadow falling over his face. "I hope one day he can speak to Salazar Slytherin as well."
"Me too."
"Anyway," Draco cleared his throat. "What next, Merlin?"
Next, Merlin needed to catch up Korrizahar on everything that had happened, but it wasn't quite time for Draco to learn about the dragons hiding in the Forbidden Forest. Instead he chewed his tongue a moment. "Actually," Merlin said, making up his mind, "I need you to find Fred and George—"
Ten minutes later, Draco went back to the castle and Merlin disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. The snow crunched beneath his feat, his breath crystalized in the air. When he reached the clearing, he found Korrizahar curled in a far corner, the ground charred beneath him. He stirred as Merlin drew close, and then those golden eyes opened.
"Merlin?" The dragon lifted his head. "It's midday! What's happened?"
"A lot," and Merlin took a seat on the ground next to Korrizahar. He proceeded to tell the dragon about everything that had happened, no detailed altered or emitted. By the time he'd finished, Korrizahar had created an ember in the ground, the heat washing over Merlin's numb hands.
"So, it's over," Korrizahar breathed, smoke furling from his nostrils.
"Yeah right," Merlin said with a laugh. "Things are just getting started." Korrizahar tilted his head in confusion, and Merlin smiled. He told the dragon what he planned to do.
Korrizahar listened, his golden eyes wide. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Merlin traced a figure along the black scales of Korrizahar's cheek and nodded. "It's time."
Only A Boy
If you had asked Hermione, back when she had just started at Hogwarts whether she would ever follow Draco Malfoy, Slytherin pureblood, into something called the Chamber of Secrets that would have been a resounding no. And yet, here she was, trying not to linger on the way the bones of small animals crunched beneath her shoes.
Draco led the way, looking far more relaxed than he ought to have been. Or maybe he was just familiar with this place. He had found her just after dinner, something different in his grey eyes.
"Merlin has something he wants to announce. Will you trust me?"
Hermione hadn't understood him until he led her into the girl's lavatory on the second floor and he kneeled down next to the sinks to hiss something. Parseltongue. He looked up at her frozen expression and said, "Merlin taught me how to get in."
He had offered his hand to her. "Trust me."
So now she was here, in the Chamber of Secrets with Draco Malfoy. She tried not to think focus on the grime and the filth, on the pounding of her heart.
The tunnel gave way to rough hewn rock, and Draco paused briefly. "Don't panic, there's a snake skin up ahead."
Lucky he had mentioned something because Hermione probably would have shrieked a curse otherwise. It was still an uncomfortable shock to see the poisonous green skin of an enormous snake. Merlin had killed this thing? Hermione had seen him take down a mountain troll, sure, but this was a Basilisk.
He scared her sometimes.
"Almost there, now," Draco said and around the corner they found another door – a thick metal one with large emeralds set for the eyes. Draco cleared his throat and hissed. The door didn't move. She saw Draco frown and he tried again. Still nothing.
"It's—not as easy as it looks," Draco said in an offhand way, glancing over at Hermione. He took a deep breath. He hissed again, barely moving his lips and the snake moved. It slid back, and the door swung open.
"There we go." Draco took the door and stepping back. "After you," and his voice sounded almost kind.
Or maybe Hermione was reading too much into it.
She went through the door and he followed, shutting the door behind them. The space opened up before her, a large cavern filled with columns. The space was illuminated by what looked like half a dozen miniature suns, balls of golden light that floated at the ceiling. She could just see a group of people standing near a large statue at the far end.
As they drew near, Hermione noticed a large circular table standing at true center near the statue's feet. The stone looked as if it had been pulled right from the ground. Merlin stood on the far side, his back to the ancient statue of Salazar Slytherin. But also present was Fred and George Weasley, the two of them standing off to one side and watching their approach, and Ginny Weasley, who was sitting on the edge of the table.
"Excellent!" Merlin said with a broad smile. "What do you think, Hermione?"
"This place needs some couches."
"We concur!" cried Fred and George.
"Fair enough," Merlin said with a chuckle. "But before we get into that, I suppose I should explain why you're all here."
"And here I thought you would ask us to guess," said Ginny rolling her eyes.
Merlin paused, clasping his hands behind his back. Hermione could sense the atmosphere change, the way the mood turned serious. Ginny pushed off the table so that she could stand, all eyes on Merlin as he chewed his cheek for a moment.
"I have a hard time trusting others, not because I fear they will betray me but because I worry I will get you hurt. I know we all want the same thing, to stop the Dark Lord, to make the world better for everyone. I trust all of you to have my back, and I know you want to help."
Merlin met Hermione's eyes, and she couldn't read the look he had there. He went on to look at each of them in turn. "But this is not a game. I am going to force my way into the adult sphere, and we may have to get our hands dirty. I need you all to understand that if you decide to help me, you will be in danger. We will be going after the most feared wizard for a century. Better people than us have lost their lives."
Merlin raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. At once, stone chairs rose from the ground around the table. He took a seat in the one in front of him. "If you want to hold onto your childhood a little longer I will not judge you, in fact I encourage it. I will lead you back out the Chamber of Secrets and wipe the memory away, and I will still be your friend with all the vagaries and secrets like before. Or," and Merlin looked around at them all. "You can take a seat."
Fred and George Weasley looked at each other and took their seats without another word. That surprised Hermione. She knew Merlin had befriended the twins, but to trust them with this? How much did they already know? She stared at them as Draco took his seat next to Merlin, and glanced over at her – something hopeful in his expression. Ginny glanced once in her direction before giving a shrug.
"I think Tom Riddle pretty much ruined my childhood anyway," she muttered with a narrowed look up into the face of Salazar Slytherin, and she threw herself down into one of the chairs.
Hermione had read a lot about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She knew about the kind of atrocities he had committed, and knew she was just a twelve-year-old girl. She might be the brightest witch of her age, but that wasn't much against years of experience. She hesitated, weighing pros and cons, moral obligations—until she found the feeling in her gut.
She wanted to help Merlin. She wanted to make a difference. She wanted to stand up for muggleborns like herself. She didn't want to stand by and do nothing while other people fought for her.
So she sat down, and Merlin smiled.
"I'm honored, everyone," Merlin said looking around at them. He seemed touched. Maybe he had worried they would leave, or he was scared because they had stayed despite his warning. And then he opened his mouth to speak again, and a stream of hissing came instead.
As Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion, the mouth of Salazar Slytherin fell open and she saw something stir in the darkness. She shut her eyes before she even had time to think. Her heart hammering in her throat, Hermione chided herself that she'd just heard Merlin speak Parseltongue and anyway the Basilisk was—
"Everyone," she heard Merlin say and she reopened her eyes. "This is Ríognach."
—Not dead.
Hermione caught herself searching for the creature's eyes and found them hidden by a white film of skin. She snapped her attention back to Merlin to find him apprehensively watching everyone.
"Nice to officially meet you," Ginny said, regarding the snake with something like cautious curiosity. "I'm Ginny."
The Basilisk turned it's head toward Ginny Weasley and hissed. "What did she say?" Ginny asked Merlin, eyes still glued to the snake.
Merlin hesitated. Then, "She says, do not let the sickness of that boy weigh upon your soul."
"Oh."
"So—so," Hermione said quickly because Ginny's expression had just frozen in place, "What did Dumbledore think when you left her alive?"
Draco snorted with laughter. "Are you kidding?"
"No—" Merlin said, with a sideways looks at Draco. "No, the Headmaster is unaware of what really happened here."
"You—you don't trust Dumbledore?" Hermione stared at him. She knew he was leading the front against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Everyone considered him the good guy. But here was Merlin putting his hands together at the table, and mulling over his answer.
"I think he means well," Merlin said after a moment. "He wants what's generally best for his version of a perfect society. But he is bound by his beliefs and biases like us all, and I am concerned his drive for the greater good may cause him to overlook some of the finer points." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry if that's vague."
"Let me put it another way," Draco said, and Hermione turned to him, surprised. "Dumbledore is a righteous man, honorable even—but if you told me he would leave a baby in an abusive home for years, if it meant they turned into their perfect little soldier who would battle against a great evil and die for the greater good, I wouldn't be surprised."
"That's—really specific…"
"But he's not far off the mark," Merlin said and he sighed. "Dumbledore wants to stop the Dark Lord from hurting others, and encourage others to treat each other with dignity and respect. But he seems ignorant of the way we're conditioned to think all Slytherin's are bad and just waiting for a chance to go the dark side." He sighed. "Not to mention we're children, and he's not exactly going to let us do as we please."
Hermione hated it but had her there. The Professors didn't even leave them unsupervised, let alone fight against dangerous wizards.
"I'm afraid Dumbledore is also ill equipped to fight the Dark Lord," Merlin went on, to the surprised looks of everyone.
"But… He's the greatest wizard of our time," George said blankly.
"The Dark Lord cheated death using some ritual of the Old Religion," Merlin said, and Hermione's mind went spinning. "Poorly, I might add."
"He's done what?" Hermione choked out, somewhat shrilly. "How on earth can you know that?"
"Well, for starters he died about twelve years ago and yet an element of his soul possessed Ginny Weasley, forcing her to open the Chamber of Secrets, and he intended to absorb her entire life force so that he could return to the physical plane – how am I doing so far?" The Basilisk had curled around the table now, her head resting near Merlin's lap. She watched as Merlin stroked the scales between Ríognach's eyes.
"Yeah, that does sound way darker than anything I've ever heard of," Fred Weasley said after a moment, leaning back in his chair.
"To do something like that, I'm not sure just killing him will be enough this time around," Merlin said. "We're going to have to make sure he can't come back."
"And you think you're more qualified than Dumbledore?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Merlin, I want to trust you but what makes you think Dumbledore can't figure this all out too? He's a great wizard for a reason. We'd be better off as his support, rather than the other way around don't you think?"
Hermione thought she saw blind amusement in Merlin's eyes, but why would he find that funny?
"Dumbledore does not know the Old Religion. Not like I do. He might stumble upon a definition, a passing word or phrase but he won't be able to feel this magic like I will."
He pulled something from his pocket and dropped it onto the table before them. It was a small ink stained leather-bound book with a searing hole through the center. "This diary housed part of Tom Riddle's soul. I felt the magic on it the moment I touched it, I know what to look for now."
"This, Old Religion, why wouldn't Dumbledore know it?" Hermione asked with a frown. "He seems like the type to know these things."
Merlin laughed. "Because no one knows them anymore. How do you think I snap my fingers and the earth moves around me?"
Hermione fell silent. She hadn't stopped thinking about it since that day in Flourish and Blotts, when Merlin had told them he did not use a wand. At all.
"Can you learn that?" Ginny asked suddenly and everyone turned to look at her. "Well I mean, is the Old Religion something one can learn?"
"Yes—exactly, why couldn't you teach Dumbledore the Old Religion?" Hermione went on.
Across the table, Draco groaned. "Can you not with the blind loyalty to Dumbledore?"
"Any adult then," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "It's perfectly sensible to ask why we have to do this as opposed to someone more qualified. Of course, Dumbledore would treat us differently because we're children. We are!""
"You sat down at the table!" Draco said, frowning now. His voice rising. "You said you wanted to do this!"
"I am seated at this table," Hermione replied evenly. "Do not misunderstand my questions. I am with Merlin and I trust him, and because of that I owe it to him and to myself to fact-check his reasons for doing things this way. It is my responsibility to make sure I follow someone who is acting on good sound logic, and not reckless narcissism. I do not want Merlin to get hurt either."
"Which I am happy to oblige," Merlin said grinning now. "I know I am not infallible. I want your input and ideas. I want you to question me when I don't make sense. If I can't rationalize my own actions how can I be sure of what I'm doing?"
"Oh," Draco sat back in his chair. "Well, I mean, you've never really explained everything before."
"And you trusted me anyway," Merlin said with a wink. "I felt it was finally time I returned the favor."
"So, Merlin. Why you?" Hermione asked, folding her arms.
"I can't teach Dumbledore how to feel the Old Religion, not in time to stop the Dark Lord from causing irreparable damage. It is easiest to learn as a child, while your magical core is still developing so that you can grow attuned to it." His expression grew somewhat somber; he cast his eyes to the burned diary for a moment.
"I cannot do this alone, the Dark Lord has an army. Dumbledore has his own agenda making my involvement useful up until it's not, and though he has the best intentions, it's our generation that needs to decide the laws we live by. He does not know the Old Religion, something I can sense just being near him, and I cannot teach it to him in time. I cannot predict the fallout of presenting him with all the details I have, and the risk isn't worth it, not when I know I am capable of doing this."
"Hear, hear!" said Fred Weasley, clapping his hands.
"We know you could kick Dumbledore's old saggy ass," George added with a wink.
"I don't know about that—" Hermione scoffed. "I mean, I know you don't need a wand but be realistic here—"
"Hermione." Merlin had risen to his feet, and for a moment her heart sank. Had she gone too far? But then Merlin was smiling up at her. "Have you ever thought about running for political office? If you do, let me know—I'll support you."
"I'm—I'm serious here, Merlin."
"I know, so am I," and Merlin started walking over to a section of the wall to their left. "I don't expect some fancy wand work to convince you, and by all rights this task is going to need more than a few good spells. Dumbledore has years of experience, a wealth of contacts, and the drive to accomplish it."
"And you're twelve…"
Merlin hissed something at the stonewall, and it shifted back to reveal a doorway. He turned back to them. "Not quite."
"Merlin are you—" Fred started with eyes wide.
"He is!" George responded, getting to his feet as well.
"What are you on about?" Ginny asked, frowning now.
"Yeah, what do you mean, you're not quite twelve? We celebrated your birthday at the end of July." Draco went on.
Merlin gestured for all of them to follow him. "I said I would tell you everything, we might as well start at the beginning."
Fred and George nearly tripped over themselves in their haste to rush after Merlin. He stood aside to let the twins enter first. Somewhat confused, but eager not to be left behind Ginny raced after her brothers.
"But what's Slytherin's Mosaic got to do with whether or not you're qualified?" Draco asked as he neared Merlin, Hermione one step behind him.
"Mosaic?" Hermione repeated.
"Yeah, it was made by Salazar himself, has the real story about Slytherin's Heir and everything."
"Well—"
"Would you lot just get in here already?" Fred said poking his head back out. "And stop being so dramatic Merlin, I've been dying for details."
"Yeah—Yeah, I've kept you two on the hook for over a year now."
"Try almost two," George corrected.
Hermione followed Merlin inside and gasped in awe at the glitter of emerald gems and pottery shards imbedded in the wall. There, across was the figure of a man she supposed must be Salazar Slytherin, or rather what he was as a young man. Fred and George had taken a seat on the floor right in front of him, whereas Ginny had opted to lean against the back corner of the room, one food propped against the wall.
"And which story do you wish me to tell this time, Emrys?"
Emrys?
"The one about us."
"You'll have to start that one, my old friend."
"Merlin?" Hermione whispered, staring at the shifting jewels. Her heart had started thudding in her chest again, and this time she couldn't name the fear. It was just—it couldn't be—that wasn't possible— "Why does Salazar call you old friend?"
Merlin put his hand briefly on her shoulder and moved past her, until he stood in front of them all, leaning next to the mosaic who formed someone no older than eighteen, with midnight hair and glittering blue eyes. He wore a soft blue tunic with a brown coat and bright red scarf around his neck. It was uncanny, Hermione thought as she stared at it; she'd say Merlin and the boy were brothers.
"I am going to request that you keep all questions until the end. There is a lot for me to get through here, but when I'm finished I hope, Hermione, and everyone else will trust that I chose to do this and that I will see it done."
Draco nudged her and they took a seat on the ground near Fred and George. Hermione couldn't stop staring at the mosaic. She didn't want to acknowledge the thought bouncing around in her mind. It was just too impossible.
"I chose the name Evans because I saw it on the spine of a book, my first night in London."
Hermione stopped breathing.
"I was born in Ealdor to Hunith and Balinor. My name," he continued with a smile around at them all. "Is Merlin Ambrosius, Emrys, Prince of Enchanters and High Priest of the Old Religion."
Hermione didn't think she would ever learn something else as groundbreaking to her world than that day Professor McGonagall showed up to tell her magic existed. Something that changed everything and forced her to confront a whole new set of questions she'd never considered. The way she heard it, not everyone got to change like that, now she was changing for a second time.
And then Ginny spoke up from the back, and Hermione was forced to admit that underneath the initial shock, the surreal feeling like a tilted equilibrium, she wasn't actually surprised.
"You didn't even change your name?"
Author's Note
I LIVE!
Thank you for your patience, I have news. I have decided I'm unhappy with my current life & especially with my lack of time to write. So, I quit my job and am hitting the road [as of November] with the intent of becoming a self-employed writer. I already have some original work published on my website, you can find links and more information on my profile. I've also got some exclusive fanfiction posted as well to enjoy while you're waiting for the next chapter.