The Story of Merlin
Not long before Merlin was born, King Uther Pendragon declared that all magic was evil and began a vendetta to rid his Kingdom of all who practiced such things. He blamed magic for the death of his Queen, Ygraine de Bois. Uther had gone to the sorceress Nimueh for help because Ygraine could not have children, but life magic is ancient and old and a life must be given for one in return.
Grief-stricken after Ygraine died in childbirth, King Uther began the Great Purge. He used Balinor, the last living Dragon Lord to capture the ancient Kilgharrah before turning on him and ordering his execution. Balinor fled to Ealdor, a village in the lands of Essetir. He fell in love with a woman there, Hunith but their joy was short lived for Uther pursued him even there and he was forced to flee again, not knowing his wife was with child.
Merlin grew up an outsider within Ealdor. His magic was powerful even in his youth, and though some accepted his nature most viewed him with caution. Hunith did her best, and eventually decided to send Merlin to Gaius, the Court Physician in Camelot, as an apprentice. He had been a friend to both her and Balinor, and was the only person she could think of who might be able to help Merlin learn to control his magic.
From the moment Merlin arrived in Camelot he was forced to hide his true nature, or face the pyre. But even though he needed to keep his head down, avoid the eyes of everyone—especially the King—he picked a fight with the young prince and ultimately, saved his life. In gratitude, King Uther gave Merlin a place in the royal household as Prince Arthur's manservant. Merlin found the dragon Kilgharrah imprisoned beneath the castle and learned of a prophecy that declared Arthur would one day return magic to the land. For years, he struggled to hide all while protecting Arthur in the hope that when he assumed the throne, things would change.
What was Arthur like, you may ask? Well, in the beginning Merlin thought him an entitled prat. Brazen, spoiled, with little regard for the feelings of others, but good in a fight. So, when Arthur risked his life to retrieve an antidote for Merlin, ignoring the command of his father for a mere manservant, Merlin saw the future king for what he could be. Arthur Pendragon was brave, impulsive, and kind with a steadfast determination to do right by him and by his people, damn the consequences. He fell in love with the handmaiden of Morgana, Guinevere, going against his father's wishes and royal custom. He was willing to listen and even speak in defense of the peaceful druids in opposition to King Uther's cruelty.
And Merlin loved him for it.
The Reveal and Creation of Albion
When Merlin finally decided it was time to reveal his magic, he discovered everyone already knew. Gaius had known from the beginning. Lancelot learned long before he became a knight of Camelot, before he died, before Morgana used him to hurt Guinevere and Arthur. Gwaine found out with Percival while on a hunting trip. They started a secret club among the knights, until they all knew and began to take bets on when Arthur would finally figure it out. Queen Guinevere had begun to suspect not long after Morgana revealed her own magic and intent to take the throne from Arthur, and confirmed it with Gaius.
King Arthur had found out by accident when he overheard Merlin talking with Gaius.
For a week, the King had been in turmoil. He pretended there was a possibility Guinevere was pregnant, that a trade agreement with a neighboring kingdom was giving him a headache, that'd he'd just gotten some troubling news about an old friend and he needed a moment to think. Not to his surprise, Guinevere came to him instead, because Merlin was worried.
"I think I would know if we were expecting a child, dear. What's troubling you?"
So he told her everything. Merlin—Merlin, the manservant he thought of like a younger brother, best friend, and trusted confidant had magic. He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He still didn't believe it. All his life, he had been taught that those who practice magic were evil, but it was more than that—Merlin had lied to him. He felt betrayed and scared and confused and he didn't know what to do.
Guinevere took his hands in her own and smiled, because she already knew. No, Merlin had not told her either. But she knew Merlin had saved her father's life, saved Arthur's, and saved so many more. When the two of them had first met, of course Merlin had kept it a secret. King Uther would have cut off his head.
"My Father had been dead for years, Gwen. You'd think that after all we've been through he'd know he can trust me."
"Arthur, you do realize King Uther's ban on magic still stands, right?"
So, King Arthur struck down the law. Magic was not evil, anymore than humans were capable of being already. He was not his father, and he was not like Morgana. He would not hate recklessly and blindly, allowing revenge and prejudice to consume his heart. He summoned his court to the throne room, and made the announcement.
"Is this why you've been such a prat all week?"
"Merlin, thank you for volunteering to become the new ambassador for magical relations."
Merlin stared at him. Opened his mouth, closed it again, and distinctly heard Gwaine from behind him give a loud groan.
"I can't believe Leon won the bet."
"What bet?"
"Shouldn't you also make Merlin the Court Magician, sire?" asked Gaius and Merlin whirled around to gape at him.
"Can I second that, sire?" Percival added.
"What the—" Merlin tried to say. The Knights had started shaking with laughter.
"Quite right. Merlin, you're the first ever Court Magician—or would you prefer Warlock?"
"How—"
"You're also much better at words, can you draft an official proclamation to the Kingdom, Merlin?"
"Just hold on, one moment—"
"I will let the kitchens know to prepare a feast this evening, it's only right that we celebrate," Guinevere said thoughtfully and there were several cheers of approval at this.
Merlin was left, standing, dumbstruck as the meeting fell apart around him. He felt Gaius stride forward to stand next to him and asked in a somewhat choked voice, "What—what just happened."
Gaius raised his eyebrow. "I think that's pretty obvious, Merlin." He put his hand on Merlin's shoulder, smiled, and then exited the throne room. In fact, within mere seconds, the room vacated leaving just Merlin standing before an unconcerned Arthur.
"You know," Merlin said staring at him.
"Everyone knows, Merlin."
"Everyone," Merlin repeated.
"I'll never understand how someone as smart as you can also be a blundering idiot. You were taking so long to get around to it, Guinevere thought you needed a little push."
"I—"
"All right, I decided you needed a little bit of a push. Won't it be nice not to polish armor anymore?"
"Arthur—"
"And I get it, I know why you wouldn't just come out and say it. I mean, we've only been through life and death together, but considering magic killed my mother and my father actively tried to slaughter you and yours I'm willing to forgive you, if you promise me to trust me, from here on out."
Merlin thought he might cry. "Mage." He cleared his throat. "Court Mage."
That night at the feast, he told them the tales of his deeds. He took credit for his accomplishments. It was a relief and wonderfully amusing to see their reactions when they learned the truth. Arthur couldn't get over the fact that he didn't kill the dragon, Merlin had instead shouted at it to go away and it DID!
The Four Founders
Within a few months, King Arthur's proclamation had spread to the neighboring Kingdoms and various magic users came to inspect if such claims were indeed true.
One night, Merlin was lying on his back, staring at the stony gray expanse above him while glimmers of moonlight filtered through his open window. Logic urged him to close his eyes, to drift off to sleep—Arthur would be annoyed if he started the day with a yawn, especially when they still had so much to do. But, try as he might, he lied awake, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time.
Crack!
Merlin nearly fell off his bed as a single loud crack crashed through his room, sending him to a squat beside on the floor, as his magic churned within him. It was there, at his fingertips in seconds, a thousand spells at his tongue—each more aggressive than the last. Four people stood before him, crowding the small room that had been designated as his own. And, for a moment, all he could do was stare, crouching by the side of his bed like a child.
They all wore a different color cape.
"Emrys?" It was the man at the front with wild ginger hair and a pointed leather hat. He looked doubtful, and even as Merlin watched he turned back to a man in an acid green cloak. "You're sure this is the place?"
Merlin got to his feet, blue eyes narrowing. "And what? Were you expecting a different reaction to just apparating here in the middle of the night?" he said, annoyed. "You know you could just knock, or maybe come by in the morning. Like normal people."
"We couldn't be sure if the rumors about Albion were true," the man in red said again, looking sheepish. A very pretty woman with long black hair and blue cloak sighed loudly, pushing her way to the front.
"Excuse Godric, he just couldn't wait another moment to see you, Merlin," and she gave a disapproving glare at her comrade. "I am Rowena Ravenclaw," and she gave a small bow. "We have a proposition for you and for King Arthur."
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Then you should probably make an audience with the King and me. You know, in the morning."
Rowena clicked her tongue, but didn't say anything. She looked slightly affronted. Merlin was willing to bet that no one had ever spoken to her in such a way—and granted, he normally wouldn't have. But he was in his nightgown and it was more than a little awkward and irritating that they had intruded into his chambers.
"How did you even get in here?" he asked, shaking his head. "You can only apparate somewhere you've been before."
"That would be my trickery."
The man dressed in green made no move to come forward, leaning all to casually against Merlin's dresser. He smirked shamelessly, though his features were hard to make out in the gloom. He chuckled, and then lifted his sleeve to reveal a thick-banded poisonous blue snake wrapped around his wrist. His smile broadened, dark green eyes glinting mischievously.
"She knew where to lead us."
Merlin stared in wonder at the creature as it lifted its head to look at him. Though, it seemed he was alone in that thought, for the others stiffened and the second woman—a pretty curly haired blonde—made a small squeak of anxiety.
"Really Salazar, do you have to do that? It's cramped in here y-you know?"
"Anyway," Rowena cut across, glancing at the snake with a wary expression. "We want you to help us with the planning process as well."
"Planning for what?" Merlin asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the snake.
Godric grinned, clapping his hands together. "What do you think," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Of making a school that would teach Magic?"
Those were the good days, of growth and change. Merlin had introduced King Arthur to the four founders—Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. The notion of a magical school was a radical idea, and Arthur loved it. And as Merlin was the ambassador for Magical Relations he was effectively placed in charge of overseeing the project.
Merlin suggested the Isle of the Blessed, a sacred place to the Old Religion with strong magical protections despite its crumbling visage. It would be the ideal place to teach new students to feel the earth. The Founders insisted upon building the school themselves, having no desire to take advantage of King Arthur's hospitality. But they frequently called upon Merlin for advice, and welcomed him to come see their progress.
On one of these visits, Godric asked if Merlin might humor him. That's how he came to stand outside the newly constructed castle walls, when the mist of the morning had just started to vanish in the golden glow of the sun.
"He doesn't even need one, Godric," Rowena said. The witch had her long dark hair pinned back. She regarded him with something akin to defeat. Merlin grinned—Godric was hard pressed to stop once he had an idea.
"I just want to see what'll happen! Don't pretend you aren't curious," he said wiggling his finger at her. Merlin glanced at Salazar. The druid was leaning against a tree and offered the warlock a shrug.
"He'll never let it go, otherwise," he said, rolling his eyes. Merlin heaved a sigh, but nodded.
"Okay, fine. Let's get this over with." He was curious himself, truth be told.
Godric produced a wand from his robes, grinning broadly. "It's my spare—rosewood, dragon heartstring. Just try to cast something simple." He held it out to Merlin.
"Like what?" He didn't take the wand, eyeing it instead. He could feel its magical core, fire and power like a lion baring its teeth.
"I don't know. Try levitating that rock, or something."
Merlin nodded and took the wand in his hands. Heat flowed through his fingers, the magical core of the wand trying to align itself with his own. But the wood was burning beneath his fingers. The wand pulsed, trembled, and then it shattered. A thousand sharp wooden splinters fell to the ground as a shockwave blasted them all back several feet, a ball of golden light expanded before it shrank and disappeared with a crack like a thunderclap.
Merlin sat up to see Godric rising. He leaned back on his elbows. "New plan," Godric said, clearing his throat. "Merlin never uses a wand again."
Needless to say, he quickly became close friends with all of them. Especially Salazar Slytherin, with whom he had an immediate connection through their druidic roots. Salazar understood the Old Religion better than the other Founders. He could wax poetic for hours on its cyclical nature like the passing of seasons. They would discuss the subject long after the sun had set. Merlin even attempted to pass on the knowledge of the Dragon Lords to Salazar, only to receive Parseltongue instead.
But a past as bloody as Camelot's was not easily forgotten. Salazar in particular struggled to reconcile the treatment of his fellow druids with their newfound freedom.
One night, they sat around a crackling campfire. Hogwarts was built, a looming accomplishment in the distance. Merlin was older, imposing with silent power. His fine blue robes did not belong to a servant. But his hair was still dark; the hem of his robes stained with the clay-like mud from the road. Opposite him was Salazar. He leaned against a piece of deadwood, his dark robes tinted with green and gold. Like Merlin he had dark hair but it was long and well kept even here in the middle of the woods.
"I don't think Rowena will ever forget that one." The day before, Merlin and Salazar had enchanted a fake snake to slither into Rowena's room. It was worth it to hear the usually stern Ravenclaw swear like a sailor.
Salazar laughed, before the sound tapered off and his green eyes darkened. "Everything has changed."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean now that King Arthur has legalized magic again. I saw a child in the town we past, openly playing with a magic ring—no doubt gotten it from his parents. He'd amassed a crowd of villagers, all admiring the image of a dog he had created with water from the well." Salazar paused and shook his head, looking troubled. "A little over a year ago they would've dragged him screaming into the pyre."
"We fought hard to get here," Merlin said, slowly.
"Indeed." And Salazar paused again before leaning forward and bringing his hands together. "But, what about the hundreds of druids and warlocks who were burned at the stake? The villagers play nice with us now, but they were once our executioners. Are we expected to just forget it ever happened?
"Where is the justice?" Salazar went on, now getting to his feet. "I know children that have watched their parents murdered before their eyes, and parents who've had to bury their children. And while they nurse their grief, the murderers walk free."
And Merlin didn't know how to ease Salazar's mind.
The Death of King Arthur
But Merlin did not have time to worry about the building resentment within Salazar, for Morgana returned with a vengeance, Mordred in tow and laid siege to all he knew and loved. And in Camlann the final battle drenched the earth with blood, and though Mordred fell—Arthur sustained a grievous wound.
At Merlin's anguished roar, the Dragon Kilgharrah picked both him and Arthur from the battlefield. Only those who were there that day know what happened next, and when he returned Merlin saw no need to correct the legends growing and spreading.
But, even with all his magicks, Merlin had not been able to heal his friend. He laid him to rest by the Sidhe of Avalon, returning Excalibur to the waters from whence it came—safe from his enemies, and unreachable by Morgana and her sorcery. He returned again to Camelot to find the torches lit.
He found Guinevere in the throne room, crown upon her head, and she cast her tear filled eyes behind him for the shadow of the man she loved. But no one followed him inside, and wet drenched her cheeks.
Merlin's voice caught in his throat. The grief he had held back as he traveled broke against the dam and he threw his arms around her. They held each other in tearful silence, as the court drew back and the mourners filled the air with their cries. Merlin stayed there for the funeral procession, watched the coronation as Guinevere took over the mantle of leadership. But Merlin saw the way their enemies pressed close—Morgana was emboldened by her victory, and he knew it was a matter of time before she came to steal the throne away.
Outside Camelot the whispers raised their volume. King Arthur had allowed magic and look what happened to him. Queen Guinevere could see the shift, just as he did and knew the days of Albion were numbered.
"What should we do?" she asked him. She had sent all her advisors away, all her attendants, the court empty save for the two of them illuminated by candlelight. "All he managed to create, all we accomplished—they'll destroy it all."
Merlin held her hands, and she looked up at him.
"I don't want to see you sent back to those dark days of terror and persecution," she whispered. "But Camelot is surrounded on all sides by cruel men who do not wish to see me rule. They do not want to see the beauty in what you are, and what you can do."
"I know."
"Then what do I do? How do I protect you, Merlin?"
"You have always been good to me, Gwen," Merlin said with a smile. "You have sheltered druids, and worked so hard to improve the lives of your people. So, allow me to protect you and all of Albion one last time."
This was Merlin's answer to the Pendulum Problem. He inscribed every wall of Camelot with runes, calling upon the Old Religion to imbue magic upon the land. He poured out his heart, his core, and spoke ancient words that would vanish the castle from this land.
"You will not exist in any realm they can find," he explained to Guinevere, as he stood in the courtyard.
"You're not coming, are you?"
"I have another battle to fight, yet."
Guinevere nodded and brought the golden blade in her hand across her palm to slice a sacrifice to the Old Religion—allowing her blood to splatter over the sigil carved into the center stone of the courtyard. Then, she passed the blade to the Gaius, and with a soft smile at Merlin he added his blood and passed it to the next person, and they passed it on to the next, for Merlin had explained that every person who wished to reside would need to tie themselves to the earth.
"When King Arthur rises again, and Albion restored—the enchantment will break and Camelot will return."
And Merlin stepped back as Camelot vanished in a wave of thick, pulsing magic. Cobblestones faded, towers melted against the sky, and Merlin watched the sad smile of Guinevere as her lips formed, "Thank you," and then he blinked—and he stood alone. And there, in front of him, towering and ancient, stood a yew tree without leaves.
"I will wait until you blossom again," he whispered, pressing his palm against the bark. And then he turned, and strode away.
In the wake of a growing movement that feared magic, Merlin returned to where he thought he might be most useful—Hogwarts. He wanted to share his knowledge, and help a new generation of witches and wizards understand their magic and how best to use it.
Up until that point, the four founders had acted as masters taking on apprentices to learn their particular style of magic. Gryffindor used bold, powerful spells, well suited to combat and defense. He focused on the element of fire. Ravenclaw utilized illusion and dreams, predicting the turn of events to gain the advantage with an emphasis on transformation and conjuring. She focused on the element of air. Hufflepuff had a more practical and pacifist approach, cultivating magical gardens and taming magical beasts, to use their properties to create potions and poisons. For emergency. She corresponded to the element of earth. And Slytherin, he focused on his druidic roots, manipulating the magical essence of the physical and spiritual, reading and imbuing sigils and runes with power, magical traps, and ritualistic magic of blood and bone to speak to the Old Religion.
They occasionally taught each other's selected apprentices. Godric loved to hold dueling tournaments, Rowena would hold open classes twice a week, Helga invited anyone and everyone to her gardens, and Salazar organized celebrations and community rituals tied to the lunar and druidic calendars.
Merlin took no students of his own, and instead held classes open to all. He gave lectures on the history of magic, of Camelot, and the construction of Hogwarts. He made guest appearances at Salazar's request to teach the Old Religion. He commanded the dragons for Helga, allowing students to approach and even ride the creatures. And he held classes on charms and enchantments, which grew so popular among the students and founders alike that he was dubbed 'The Prince of Enchanters.'
Rowena advocated inviting other teachers to the school in order to allow the students to branch out and expand their skills. Not to mention, she reasoned—they could hardly be expected to teach forever. Godric was the one to suggest the creation of Houses that would continue the spirit of their doctrine after they left. And all agreed.
Godric took his large leather hat and together with the other founders, enchanted it to find those traits they looked for in their pupils and to sort the students accordingly. It took some fine tweaking—Rowena had Merlin inspect the Hat three different times after she made modifications to verify the enchantments would hold—but soon they were using the Sorting Hat on new students. And with more staff to handle education, the number of students more than doubled.
Slytherin Leaves Hogwarts
But the news that Camelot had vanished began to spread, and the neighboring Kingdoms grew increasingly nervous. Salazar and Godric would argue the matter over dinner. Godric wanted to expand the students, which would calm the concerns of non-magic people, and allow everyone to see that there was nothing evil or wrong with magic itself, just the people who wielded it.
Salazar did not want to admit the children of people he knew had prosecuted them under King Uther's rule. Those who had burned loved ones at the stake and received no criminal charge because it was under a different King. He argued it was only a matter of time before the persecution returned in full force—the Christian church had been steadily growing in strength these last few decades in England, and they had already begun to condemn what they called, Devil Worship. All magic was evil in their eyes, and Kings had no patience dissonant thought.
"We should only take those from magical backgrounds," Salazar argued. "These peasants have no appreciation for our lifestyle, and they'll turn on us again—mark my words."
Helga agreed with Godric, willing to accept even those with limited magical ability. "Herbs and animals don't even need you to wave a wand at it," she reasoned with a shrug.
Rowena remained impartial in regards to the entire matter until one evening had Godric and Salazar in a blazing row in front of the entire school. Godric had discovered a new student, with no history of magic in any of their family, and from a devoutly Christian town. They had the gift, there was no denying the red sparkes that showered above their head with the wand in hand, but Salazar was livid—Godric should have consulted all of them about this, who even was this person?
"Enough!" Rowena shouted, her thick Scottish accent silencing them all. "Godric, you can't just go out and kidnap people."
"It's not kidnap if they're willing!"
"And Salazar!" Rowena went on, ignoring Godric's outburst. "You can't just lump all the non-magic folk together. I could easily have held a grudge against all of England for what they've done to my kinsmen, but you don't see me kicking them out the door for something their grandfather's uncle once did!"
"I'm well aware of my prejudices, Rowena," Salazar replied, his voice like rumbling thunder. "But this is one line I will not cross. You speak as if this is ancient history. It's not. These monsters are actively persecuting my people, or did you forget what happens when a Christian mongrel sniffs out a druid encampment?"
"But this person hasn't done any of that! You're holding them responsible for the actions of—"
"A few bad examples?" Salazar finished with a snarl. "Yeah, that's how it works when there's an us and a them—we run around in circles, swinging the pendulum back and forth and until we knock the other from orbit. Believe me when I say that they're not just going to accept that they left to learn magic of their own accord. They will spread rumors that their people are being bewitched and that warlocks are waiting in the woods to trick them into selling their soul to some demon or another—don't patronize me, Rowena. Looking for students among our oppressors will not end favorably for us."
"We should be better than them!" Godric roared back, throwing his hands into the air. "We shouldn't sink to their level! If I had left Anne back there, confused about what she can do and what she is—they would have burned her at the stake like all the rest!"
"Ah, yes—the higher horse argument. It only benefits them!"
"A witch is a witch—is a witch!" Godric yelled. "Who cares where they began?"
"I do!" Salazar shouted back. "I can see we're never going to agree on this so I'm going to make this very simple. If you insist on bringing these types of people here to be your students, I will leave Hogwarts."
His opinion stated, his terms declared, Salazar turned on his heel and strode back into the castle, leaving Godric to splutter furiously behind him.
For a week, nothing happened. Godric took every available opportunity to discuss the matter with Salazar, again and again trying to persuade the man to change his mind. He clearly had asked Rowena for assistance in structuring the argument to be logically and ethically sound. But Salazar refused to engage with him.
"You are not wrong," he would say. "But my condition stands—either they leave, or I do."
And in his brash anger like a blazing wildfire, Godric roared back, "Then maybe you should! I don't want my students to be prejudiced, anyway."
Merlin had been able to tell from the look in Salazar's eyes that night during the banquet that this would be the last one. He did not go to bed that night, and instead went outside to sit on the castle steps. He watched the sky lighten as gold touched the skyline.
His hair was lined with gray now. He had made great progress on his beard as well, though it still had some ways before it caught up to the sight of Dragoon the Great. He heard the castle doors creak open behind him and turned to see Salazar, standing there in his thick traveling cloak.
"You're really leaving," Merlin hissed softly, getting to his feet.
Salazar shouldered a large leather pack. "I will not teach them. I will not arm them against my kin, against you—though you be too soft to see it." But Salazar's words were not angry. They were—tired. "I cannot ignore the rising chorus."
"Then help us fight against it," Merlin said, stepping toward him. "I know you don't want to go back to those dark days any more than I do."
"I applaud your hope, but the tide rises and falls in equal measure. I must play my part, just as you." Salazar smiled and then put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I will protect what we have built here, you have my word. But I cannot stay here. Morgana stole her army from our neighbors, and soon they will come to collect."
"You can't seriously be thinking of joining them?"
"While I admire her methods, they are rash and vengeful. No thought of the future, but of immediate reward. She could use a lesson in real ambition."
Merlin snorted and pushed Salazar's hand off his shoulder. "You mean you caught wind of an opportunity and can't resist a good power struggle."
"You know me well."
"Yeah, well, the others won't see it that way. Godric just might never forgive you."
"I don't want his forgiveness."
"And you want revenge."
"Nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone. They don't see it, not like you and I do. They think this is another battle to be won—not realizing the pendulum has already swung." He sighed, and turned away. But before he began to walk down the stone steps, Salazar paused and turned back to Merlin. "If we do not meet again—"
"Salazar—"
"No, hear me now. I want you to know that even if I don't, one day my heir will come back to teach here once again. I saw it in the crystals," he gave a little laugh. "And you know how I despise those things."
"No—really? I'll fight fate tooth and nail, Salazar Slytherin believing in a prophecy?"
"Yeah, well, maybe you've helped change my mind about that." Salazar smiled and after a moment, Merlin smiled back. "But, just in case, I've left you a gift that will defend this castle until I return, and I think you'll need her more than me."
Merlin gaped at him. "You—" He started to laugh. "Rowena is going to have a heart attack when she finds out you left Ríognach in the castle."
"Then do not tell her, or anyone. She is my secret that I entrust to you. I've put her far beneath the castle where she can sleep and take care of herself. But when you have need of her, she will be there."
"Fine. But you better come back and teach these young ones how to defend themselves. Who knows what'll come of them without you."
"You have my word," and Salazar extended his hand. "Till we meet again."
Merlin clasped his forearm and held tight for a moment. "And may the Old One watch your path till then."
As Merlin had said, Godric did not take Salazar's departure well. When he discovered that he had left, he ran after hm. He refused to listen to Merlin or anyone else, determined he could make Salazar come back. Merlin was not there the day he finally found Salazar and the confrontation that ensued, but he heard that they had moved mountains by the time their anger was spent.
Godric returned, his pride injured and yet determined. They had reached some kind of understanding by the end—not that Godric would ever agree with him. But he did what he could to keep Salazar's school of magic alive within Hogwarts. For a time, Merlin took over as head of what became dubbed, Slytherin House, though their ranks were greatly thinned as nearly half of those students decided to follow their mentor.
It became clear that Salazar was looking for his own solution to the pendulum problem. But he wanted to the change the world, not just save one kingdom like Merlin had done. And as he had warned, the attitudes of people grew steadily worse. It became mandatory to learn the flame freezing charm to protect against the pyre and Helga held more than one class on how to hide one's magical herb garden from non-magical eyes.
Merlin heard that Salazar had indeed met up with Morgana, though he no longer knew how Salazar planned to stop the pendulum swing. There were rumors he was looking for a way to invoke the magic of the earth to imbue magic on everyone. Removing the conflict of difference by giving everyone magic. Merlin doubted such an extravagant task was possible. And Morgana, well, she seemed to just want to rule over the non-magical folk, and slaughter everyone who tried to stop her.
The Morgana he knew was ruled by her desire for revenge and her sense of entitlement. She would never forgive Uther and the men like him for their crimes against her and hers.
The Founders fought to protect their students, but that only pitted them against the mass hysteria growing in the people. They made it their mission to live and let live, as much as possible—rescuing witches and wizards from torch bearing mobs. But Merlin saw Slytherin's point as they let the mobs go to regroup and try again with new tricks up their sleeve. Not to mention the sheer number of regular people who were murdered by accident.
Like Salazar, Merlin wanted to end the conflict. He couldn't just vanish Hogwarts though, not like Camelot. So how? Salazar had been trying to find a way to eliminate the difference, Morgana was effectively committing genocide, and the Founders were stuck in limbo as they constantly fought back a bunch of idiots waving pitchforks. They didn't seem to fit anywhere. They didn't work with the normal world, but they also didn't have one of their own—
And Merlin got an idea. Salazar was right, to the extent that man would always fear magic, and in order for them to be truly free they needed their own society, separate from the existing one.
Merlin held a private meeting with the Founders, informing them of his intention to leave his post at Hogwarts. He had business elsewhere, though he would welcome what help they could provide. He had a dream of a magical society, a Ministry of Magic—if you will. The persecution was not going to end, and was forcing them all into secrecy anyway. They should all remove themselves from the equation, and one day—everyone would forget that dragons had ever flown through the skies.
The resentment against muggles, as they began to be called, did not belong only to Morgana and Salazar. After all, if the muggles were intent on murdering them all what was the point in playing nice? To counteract the sudden rise in anti-muggle crimes, Merlin created an organization in his name to promote Muggle Rights and a list of rules in regards to them. In a nutshell—do not hurt these ignorant children that act out blindly and irrationally, instead wipe their memory and disappear. It's easier, it's faster, it's kinder and it stops the cycle.
Salazar saw what Merlin was attempting to do, and though he didn't agree with what he called "muggle loving," he agreed with the idea of a magical society. However, the very idea infuriated Morgana. She saw it as going a step backwards rather than forwards. She didn't want to hide anymore. She saw the entire world as hers for the taking, and wouldn't rest until she took it.
Then Godric heard a prophecy. It was an echo of the Old Religion, drifting backwards in time, declaring that a descendant of Slytherin would break the laws of the earth in pursuit of power and immortality. It warned of a great cataclysm should they succeed, one that may destroy the very society they were endeavoring to create.
After years of careful scrying and research, Rowena found the moment in time when Salazar's heir would rebuild the pendulum they were working to destroy, and the chaos that would enfold after. Godric insisted it was their responsibility to stop such a tragedy, and Merlin agreed. It felt only right to defend his creation, but such an insane plan would require all their power and even then—Merlin was the only one likely to survive the trip and the toll it would take.
It was Rowena who suggested regressing his age, as it would allow for a better chance of success due to the chaotic nature of the magic they were about to invoke. With his own magic trapped within a smaller container as it were, it would leak out and provide a type of buffer, not to mention there was no telling if their calculations were perfect and how long it would take to resolve the issue.
"And you will probably need to learn a different language, not to mention all that history and the technological changes! An adult asking such questions would be met with suspicion, and if there is a robust Magical Society they will question your… lack of history," Rowena had explained, running through the sheer number of issues Merlin would have to contend with.
"Why does he not just reveal he's Merlin?" Godric suggested. "Surely they would follow his words then!"
"Well, there goes the element of surprise," Merlin said with a soft laugh.
Rowena nodded, "Yes, exactly—Merlin will already be at a huge disadvantage, going in essentially blind. If this Heir of Slytherin doesn't know he's coming, he'll stand a much better chance. And there's no way to be certain that our names are even remembered some thousand years from now."
"What are you talking about, we have Hogwarts! Of course we'll be remembered."
"I'm not saying it's likely, but we have to operate under the worst case scenario. What if two hundred years from now Hogwarts is burned to the ground and all memory of us wiped from the earth?"
"Fine," Godric conceded. "So we're basically sending the most powerful warlock in the disguise of a boy, hoping he'll figure out enough and eliminate this threat before this Heir of Slytherin realizes what's really going on?"
"In a manner."
Merlin clapped his hands together. "Well, best get to it!"
To no one's surprise, Morgana learned of the prophecy and made it her mission to stop their interference. She didn't know the scope of what they planned do, but that didn't matter to her. She even ignored Salazar who told her to let them do what they wanted. They would change the future in the here and now—if Godric wanted to fight for some mirage in crystals, so be it. He warned her not to harm Merlin, least she risk his ire.
But as the three founders and Merlin began the ritual, Morgana attacked.
She was careful not to harm Merlin. She hit him instead with a powerful memory curse, so that he would be left struggling and aimless wherever the magic took him and unable to complete his task. She timed it perfectly so it hit him seconds before the portal swallowed him up.
She had escaped with her life, and the remaining founders were left to fret if they would be successful. In a spur of rage, Godric informed Salazar what Morgana had done, accusing him of betraying his friend—so much for Slytherin loyalty.
Morgana was unprepared for the fury of Salazar. They fought, and as he brandished his wand he roared that it was only because Merlin lived that he did not tear her limb from limb, but he hadno patience for someone who went behind his back. He sent her away, not knowing she carried a child, and Morgana left with a promise on her lips that if he wouldn't secure his legacy—she would.
She nurtured her descendants with a hate for muggles and mudbloods alike—those who came from no magic heritage, telling a tale of a different kind of Salazar Slytherin and the noble work that they would accomplish.
Only A Boy
Though Merlin had begun the tale, Salazar had finished it and they all remained in contemplative silence for several moments afterwards. Merlin had not known all of the details of his life after Hogwarts; those memories were still dark to him in the wake of the curse but they had begun to filter back like shells swept ashore after a storm. He added what he could, details and conversations that drifted out of his subconscious as Salazar told the story of them.
As far as earth shattering revelations went, they seemed to be handling it well. Of course, Fred and George had already known his identity. They had hung onto every word, and after the silence began to drag, Fred gave a long low whistle.
"Blimey, I knew you were this great Warlock and all that but I had no idea."
Draco rose to his feet so abruptly that he startled Hermione. He took a deep shaking breath, took one step forward and dropped to one knee. "I—" he began but Merlin started to laugh and he trailed off.
"You don't need to swear fealty to me," he said, and he extended his hand to Draco. "I am your friend."
"You're Merlin," Draco said hoarsely. "You're probably the most famous wizard who's ever lived," but he still accepted the hand to pull him to his feet.
Merlin rolled his eyes, a tease in his voice. "Really? I had no idea."
"I'm serious! All this time," he shook his head. Then he paused. "My father doesn't know, right?"
"Oh no," Merlin said shaking his head. "And don't tell him either. In fact, I reserve the sole authority to pass on this secret," he said meeting everyone's eyes.
"You should probably enchant us then," Ginny said after a moment. When everyone looked at her she shrugged. "You know, in case one of us gets questioned or something. I know I don't want to be the person that spills the beans."
Merlin smiled. "I was just getting to that. I enchanted a rune on the back of the final door into the chamber, and on your chairs," he explained. "It activated the moment you all took a seat at the table. Any new information you learn here cannot be discussed with anyone other than present members—if you attempt, you will find your mind blank."
"Oh." Hermione frowned. "I would've liked to know that earlier."
Merlin gave her a look. "I could hardly tell you before you sat down. I did say this would be dangerous, that we were forming our own group to fight against the Dark Lord." He paused, and added, "I had every intention of informing you before we concluded this meeting."
"That means we're the only ones who know then, doesn't it?" Ginny continued, her eyes widening.
"Your foster brother is going to have a field day when he finds out," George said with a snort of laughter.
"We'll see. I plan on bringing him into the fold next year when he comes to Hogwarts."
"Is that… wise?" Hermione said. "No disrespect," she added quickly. "I know you care about him and everything, but this is a lot and—"
"I trust him," Merlin interrupted gently. "He was the first person who discovered I had magic here, and he's held onto many secrets—without any kind of enchantment."
"Does that mean we can like… submit a person we think should be allowed to join?" Ginny asked.
Merlin turned to her. "Yes, actually. Though I may have a few tests for them."
"Makes sense."
"So—" Hermione asked, getting to her feet with a stretch. "Are you going to go back? After you've stopped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
Merlin shook his head. "No," he said, and his heart twinged a little at the thought of never seeing his home again. "At least, I won't be going back in time. I may see if I can find Camelot again but since I apparently tied it to an ancient prophecy, I'll have to wait and see what becomes of that."
"Apparently?" Ginny repeated. During the story she had remained quiet though her face had been expressive with shock and indignation.
"I don't remember the details," Merlin said with a sigh. "That memory curse, remember? Things are starting to come back a little but I still have large gaps, and I'm uncertain they'll ever come back fully."
"Charming." She paused a moment, then asked with some hesitation. "Did he—did Tom Riddle find out?"
"Who I was? Yes," and he heard Hermione gasp, "but the piece of him that did has been destroyed and, as far as I have been able to tell, he was not connected to the one we faced first year. It was really quite amusing, actually—"
"Bet he tried to join you," Draco said, and Merlin nodded.
"I let him down as politely as I could."
"Right," Ginny said, clearly not believing him. "Well, that's a relief, I suppose."
Merlin watched Hermione fret with something; he could see her mind working furiously behind her eyes. "How're you doing, Hermione?" he asked, as gently as he could.
"Fine," she replied, her voice a little higher than normal. "Just, processing. I can't believe you knew the founders! Actually knew them!"
"Everything I've ever believed about Salazar Slytherin was wrong," Draco said glancing over to the mosaic. The emerald gems twinkled in reply, and the mosaic shifted.
"Strange how time distorts the truth," he said. "I knew not founders but friends, each with quirks and flaws. Gryffindor had a raging temper and was stubborn as an ox, Rowena could get lost in fantasy and ideas, not to mention overthink every situation, and dear Helga was a tavern wench when I met her."
"She never grew out of that," Merlin said with a smile. "She drank the pub dry at least once a month."
Fred held up a hand. "I'm sorry, did you say that Helga Hufflepuff was a tavern wench?"
Ginny snorted with laughter. "When all of this comes out, I call first dibs on letting Professor Sprout know."
"Oh, she knows," George said with a conspiratorial grin. "I've seen how she drinks at the Three Broomsticks."
"You forget yourself," Merlin said gesturing to the mosaic. "Salazar was a notorious prankster back in the day. Remember that time we turned every banner and cape in Camelot green?"
"Your King Arthur was not pleased about that."
"Yeah, well, it only lasted a few weeks."
Draco blinked, looking from Merlin to the mosaic. "My Father will never believe any of this."
"Prankster?" Fred said with a laugh. "You hear that George? We are in the wrong house!"
"Hang on, I have so many questions," Hermione went on breathlessly, talking over Fred and George who had started asking the mosaic for a full and detailed list of every prank ever performed by Salazar Slytherin.
"Why don't we return to the table," Merlin suggested lightly. "If you wish to stay and ask questions of the mosaic you are welcome to."
Fred and George looked at each other. "Can we come back later?"
"Of course! I will be making arrangements to allow all of you easy access to the Chamber of Secrets."
He glanced around at them all and made his way out the door. He heard them follow suit and took a seat at the round table, the Basilisk raising her head slightly as she peered over at him. His heart felt lighter than it had in years. Hermione was bursting with questions and he was eager to answer them! He looked around at the table as everyone took a seat.
Ginny teetered on trying not to look too curious while also unable to hide the glint in her eyes. Draco was clearly still processing that his best friend was Merlin. He kept staring at Merlin, grey eyes wide before jolting back to himself when Merlin glanced his way. And Hermione—well, she raised her hand the second she sat down which sent Fred into snorting into laughter.
"This isn't class, Hermione."
"Well I figure we all have questions, so we might as well take turns."
"All right Hermione," Merlin said, nodding to her, "Ask your questions."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Why won't you tell the Headmaster or—" she added quickly because Draco had opened his mouth, "or Professor Snape. This is completely different than a child trying to help adults! You are, essentially, an adult!"
Merlin paused a moment before answering, regarding her. "Let's pretend I tell them," Merlin said.
"But—" Draco tried to interrupt but Merlin held up his hand.
"It's a thought experiment. Let's say if I do. What happens then, Hermione?"
Hermione fell silent. He could see her chewing her tongue, staring at the table as she visualized a list. After another moment, Merlin went on, "I would first need to prove myself, considering the age I am."
"Can I make a quick interjection?" Ginny asked, and they glanced at her. She flushed slightly. "Are you twelve or do you just look twelve?"
Merlin inclined his head. "See, I am twelve. This is not a glamour, or some kind of potion that will wear off. I realized within the first few weeks that I had all the mood swings associated with youth and I will have to go through puberty again." He gave a grimace at that, "but the strength of my magic has not changed, still belonging to that of an adult."
"But then—oh," Hermione said, her brown eyes widening. "That explains all those incidents first year."
"Exactly. Now, granted, I could just lead Dumbledore down here and allow Salazar's mosaic to explain everything—but by doing this we sacrifice several advantages. First, we cannot be certain this information will remain with him as he has his own set of loyal followers, and he will see how he can best use me to accomplish his goals."
"Surely Dumbledore would join you," Hermione said frowning.
"He still has his own agenda, Hermione," Merlin said with a sigh. "Nothing has changed from my previous reasons of not wanting to inform him. Not to mention that if we do convince him to keep it a secret, as the appearing adult, he will have full control over everything that involves the Ministry of Magic or the adult circles, allowing him to steer the conversation and keep me locked away like a weapon in a vault until he creates the perfect conditions for the Dark Lord's defeat. It will prevent us, and me, from moving from behind the shadows and I cannot predict how Dumbledore or Snape will react to his information."
"Secondly," he continued, "We will lose our element of surprise. Since I cannot predict exactly how Dumbledore will react to this information, there is a very real possibility that the entire wizarding world will find out, and we will lose our greatest advantage—Tom Riddle has no idea who I really am and will underestimate me." He grinned. "But it's more than that, can you imagine the utter chaos that would create in the wizarding world?"
"If Merlin came back, they would want to make him charge of everything," Draco said with a scoff. "You're a bloody legend."
"But I know nothing about running a nation," he said with a laugh. "Contrary to popular belief, I didn't create the Ministry of Magic, though I inspired that movement. It took hundreds years and hundreds of witches and wizards to coordinate, to write the laws and to figure what worked best. I think Professor Binns mentioned that the Statue of Secrecy was only put into law during the 17th century. "
"Officially established in 1692," Hermione said softly.
"Exactly, so I do not wish to swoop in here and hijack the system that you have all created. I know very little about current wizarding law and procedure, not to mention there are nuances and modern social norms that I am still learning. My point here, is that Merlin as he was; belongs in the past and I have no intention of bringing him here and arising the question of how in everyone's minds—especially when I myself can't answer those questions as well as I would like to. I am Merlin Evans here, Hermione, and after everything is done I won't have anywhere else to go."
"Does that mean," Draco asked with dawning realization. "That you don't intend to ever tell the world who you are?"
"Sure, I will. I'm Merlin Evans."
"Oh, haha," Ginny said rolling her eyes. "We mean actually tell them, Merlin."
"I know."
"You gotta tell Professor Snape at least," Draco said. "I mean, I never thought I'd say it but I really do think he cares about you. Don't you owe it to him to be honest?"
He had a point, Merlin had to concede as he looked at Draco's earnest expression. Snape was probably the only adult he would bring into the secret, but he knew he had complicated loyalties. "I will," he finally said, and he watched Draco grin at him. "But," he added, "Not for a little while yet."
"I'm sure he'll forgive you…" Hermione said but Merlin shook his head.
"It's not that. It's not even that I don't want him to worry about me, since I'm sure that even if he learns the truth that will never change. But I don't want to put him in the awkward position of having to keep my secrets as well. I know he has Dumbledore's ear."
"He also has my Father's," Draco said after a moment. He hesitated, then went on. "From the way my Father talks about him, he's on his side. Snape's a double agent."
"And I don't need or want to make him a triple agent."
"All right, I understand," Draco said as he ran his fingers through his hair. Merlin could tell he wasn't exactly happy about it. "But—" he added, "I want to be there when you do tell him."
"I'll make sure you get a front row seat." Merlin turned his blue gaze back on Hermione. "Does that answer your question?"
Hermione nodded. Then she bit her lip and said, "Does—does anyone have a question or can I ask another?"
"Hold up!" George said, "Our turn," and he gestured to Fred and himself "Greedy," he added but George winked at Hermione. He didn't see the scarlet blush that climbed up her neck as he turned back to Merlin and asked, "Okay. Be honest, how do you like the future so far?"
That was not a question he expected. It took a moment for Merlin to formulate his thoughts, and he hummed a moment as he wracked his brain. "Okay," he said finally. "The technology is amazing. I still remember my first night here and I saw a torch for the first time and all the lights in general. And the telly? Fantastic! Not to mention how you've all figured out how to quickly print books—we had to handwrite manuscripts for months. Of course, that's just the muggle advancements. I'm not really a fan of the transportation though," he admitted and they stared at him.
"You'd prefer to walk?"
"Of course! That Knight Bus is an absolute nightmare, I can't stand the way it jerks and shakes. Or lifts for that matter," and he gave a small shudder. "I'd much prefer to just apparate, if I can, or ride a horse or dragon or something."
"Ride a dragon," Fred repeated, a reverence in his tone. "Charlie's greatest dream."
"Charlie?"
"Our brother, Charlie. He's in Romania studying dragons. But I've heard they're an absolute nightmare to tame."
"By the way," Hermione asked, somewhat curious. "How do you know… well, English?"
"I'm not positive," Merlin admitted. "Though, I'd wager that Rowena performed some kind of enchantment on me that allows me to understand."
"Would you be able to understand any language then?"
"Probably not, it is most likely tied only to Anglo-Saxon based languages, since we are still speaking the same language but after about a thousand years span of time. I would guess she tied the spell specifically to the tongue itself—but I don't actually remember it happening."
"Okay," Draco said, glancing from the Weasley twins to Hermione. "My turn. You said before that it was Slytherin who wanted to teach students the—what'd you call it? Religion thing."
"Old Religion."
"Yes, well, you and the Mosaic Slytherin said that was what he taught the students he selected. Why did they stop teaching it then?"
"I can only speculate," Merlin said, rubbing his chin. "My guess is that they initially tried, but after Salazar left the school there wasn't another authority on the subject. Several of his students had left with him, and I doubt their loyalty would have allowed them to return before Salazar did. Then, combined with dwindling interest and time, it fell from all memory."
Then he laughed. "And, now that I think about it—it's pretty much the study and practice of the Dark Arts, which isn't taught in Hogwarts at all." He glanced from each of them and asked, "What do you all actually know about the Dark Arts?"
True to form, Hermione's hand shot into the air just as Ginny began to speak. She tapered off with a soft, "Uh, do you mind?"
"Oh no, go ahead. For a moment there I forgot this wasn't class."
"Uh, well it's just what my Dad has said about them," Ginny went on with a shrug. "He said it's magic meant to hurt or kill another person."
"Really?" Merlin said, his eyebrows rising. "That's it? But then how do you explain using Wingardium Leviosa to drop a large stone on a person's head? Does that not make it Dark then?"
"Not exactly," Hermione said. "That's a levitation charm. Its purpose is neither good nor bad, and you could use it for either. But Dark Magic can't. One of the unforgivable curses kills another and there's no other purpose for it."
"Except spiders," Draco added, almost to himself. His eyes went wide, as if he had just let slip something huge. He coughed. "I mean—"
Ginny stared at him. "Your dad uses the Killing Curse… on spiders," she paused, "at home?"
Draco hesitated. Then, finally, "No," he said. "My Mother does."
"Well, to be fair, if Ron knew the spell," Fred said with a laugh, "He'd use it on them too."
Draco fidgeted somewhat, and Merlin decided to draw the topic back on track. "Then," he said slowly, "From that description, the Old Religion is not Dark Magic at all but it does provide you with the tools to use it as if it were Dark Magic." Seeing their confused expressions, he went on, "The Old Religion is a magic tied deeply to earth and essence, once you grow attuned to it you will be able to sense the magic of others as if they were currents in the air. But spells are not merely a swish and flick. Some have parts, a ritual that must be performed with an incantation and a plea to the Old Religion to fulfill your word. Others, you attune to the earth itself and mold it as you desire. It's very powerful, chaotic, and has a mind of its own. You imbue the purpose on it, it does not provide it for you."
"Have you?" Ginny asked suddenly. "Used Dark Magic, I mean."
Merlin did not reply at once. Behind his eyes he saw the spells he had thrown, the people he had killed. He had never dried a mandrake root and dipped it in black blood before hanging it beneath someone's bed to torment their mind and their dreams. But he had used his magic to throw fire, enchanted spears, blasted others back with magic with enough force to kill them, sacrificed a life to bring back another—
"Yes." He would not apologize for it. He could see those decisions, dark as they may have been but he stood by them. "I have used life magic, caused death and harm to others in the service of my King."
Draco looked impressed. Fred and George accepted the information as if they had expected it, no doubt familiar with the legends of King Arthur. Ginny regarded him with mingled suspicion and awe. Hermione on the other hand looked shocked.
"You've killed—" she began, swallowing the word. "You've used Dark Magic?"
"Yes. Chances are, you all will use a Dark spell or two in this fight we are undertaking. But I want you all to understand something," he added because Hermione had panic in her eyes now.
"Though I used what you refer to as Dark Magic, I was not nor have I ever been a Dark Warlock. The true definition should not refer to the magic itself in any regard because any spell can be used to hurt or aid another. But to call yourself Dark, as Tom Riddle has opted to do, takes on the mantle of maleficence to all others. Even Morgana, for all her terror and arcane spells only flirted with the line of darkness because she cared about druids. But a Dark Wizard is a selfish one, for they are only looking out for their own self interest and will hurt everyone, including those around them in pursuit of those goals."
"Hang on, you said yourself you'll have to become the new Dark Lord, or whatever," Draco said with a frown.
"In jest," Merlin said. "I mistook the definition to have it apply to magic of the Old Religion in general. The muggles envision Dark Magic as calling forth a demon and obtaining magical power and ability through a contract with such an entity. With that definition, the Old Religion would embody Dark Magic, for it's not a power you draw from within but from around you, the earth itself, and there are rituals and conditions that must be met. A life for a life, for example is a trade the Old Religion demands, and if you try to circumvent that—you will pay the price."
Some of the panic had left Hermione's eyes now, though she still looked troubled. She wrung her hands slightly, before dropping them into her lap. "That—is better, I suppose. So, it's dark as far as the muggle definition is. And the Wizard definition is… inefficient."
"That about sums it up, yeah," Merlin said.
"Semantics," Fred said with a wave of his hand.
Merlin yawned. It had to be getting very late—or early. He wouldn't be surprised if they had been down here for most of the night already. He and Draco had pulled the curtains around their bedposts and had instructed Blaise to cover for them if anything happened. He assumed Fred and George had a similar arrangement with Lee—but there was no telling when they would be missed.
"Now, are there any other pressing questions? It's about time we start heading back, before the entire school has a heart-attack but I have one last piece of business I would like to address."
Fred waved his hand. "Were you," he began, very seriously, "ever in a relationship with King Arthur?"
The variety of response to the question had Merlin laughing along with George. Draco looked annoyed, as if the question was a deliberate joke. Ginny looked both taken aback and then curious. Hermione frowned, and Merlin knew she was mentally going over everything she had ever heard of the Legend of King Arthur that might suggest the two were ever romantic.
"Guinevere sometimes said so," Merlin said, still laughing. "I was still Arthur's manservant when they got married, so essentially Arthur and I were tied to the hip. And," he had stopped laughing now, though his blue eyes were still light. "I loved him."
"Like a brother or—" Ginny prompted.
"Course like a brother!" Draco interrupted. "Right?"
Merlin looked around at them all. "We are going to have to do some serious unlearning here. I don't think you all realize what the medieval era was like in terms of sexual freedom and lack of labels."
"57 Academics just punched the air," Hermione mumbled absently.
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh, just a topic that's debated in academic circles about Shakespeare. Some argue that a portion of the sonnets are written to a man, and during the prudish Victorian era were systematically censored."
"I also had a dalliance with the Lady of the Lake, but we can get into that later," Merlin added, because Draco was staring at him. "We have one last thing to discuss before we disperse." He paused to glance around at them all. "What to call ourselves. We are an official group now, after all."
"Pity the Order of Merlin is gone," Ginny said with a sigh.
"A little on the nose, don't you think?" Hermione countered. "We don't exactly want Dumbledore to figure out its run by Merlin, since we're not jumping to join forces right off the bat."
Draco was still staring at him, his thoughts clearly still with the previous conversation. He seemed to shake himself at Hermione's words however. "Right," he said. "Probably nothing to do with Arthurian Legends then, either."
"I've thought a lot of about it," Merlin said. "And, I propose we pay homage to Slytherin's druidic roots. I intend to teach you all the Old Religion, and considering my intent to bring it back to wizarding society it seems only right."
"So," Ginny prompted. "Like the Order of Druids or something?"
Merlin shook his head. "The druids placed special significance on oak trees, as they embody strength and power. The month of Oak was referred to as Duir, which can also be interpreted as a door, and is the root word of the name Druid itself. The Scottish Gaelic word for oak is Darach."
"Order of the Darach?" Draco asked.
"You know, I don't like the word order," Fred confessed. "It's too similar to the Order of the Phoenix."
"Which is why I propose, the Circle of Darach," Merlin said.
"Ooh," Hermione said, "I like that. So it would translate into the Circle of Oak, yes?"
Merlin nodded. "All in favor, say I?" he said, raising his hand.
There was a chorus of "Aye," around the circle and Merlin smiled. "None opposed. We are now the Circle of Darach."
"Next time we've gotta bring some Butterbeer," Fred said after a moment. "This deserves a toast!"
"Next time," Merlin promised, getting to his feet. "For now, meeting adjourned!"
Author's Note
See my author profile for updates on chapter completion status and announcements.
For my original work check out my website, Muse Bunny - It's a dot com!
COMING SOON!
His Brother's Keeper
The pieces are starting to come together, but while Merlin teaches the Old Religion and Silas joins the Circle of Darach, strange things are happening around the world. Wizards have gone missing, muggles have been murdered, Snape hates the new Defense Professor, and the revelation that Silas' brother is being held at Azkaban inspires Merlin to attempt the impossible.