Chapter 32
Hey guys! So I've been getting a bit of criticism on my story and I just want to make two things clear: if you want me to keep writing this I actually have to graduate so that comes before this (my unpaid hobby) and I don't really actively ship any of the characters. I agree that Ron and Hermione are a pretty terrible pairing in the long run but I'm following the events of the 5th and a little bit of the 6th (relationship wise) books in this story and as much of some of you may hate it they are canon. So ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Morgana nearly jumped out of her skin as another crash sounded through the wall of the room adjoining hers. This cabin wasn't small, but it was small enough that she could hear whenever Voldemort broke one of his sessions of eternal brooding with frequent rages. His followers seemed to clear out whenever this happened, they were all terrified of the man, but she simply found it annoying. How was she supposed to be able to focus on ancient texts in languages long dead with the dull ruckus sounding through the wall of a man with the emotional control of a toddler? Five minutes later when she heard another crash in the pseudo-library she angrily stood from her chair and stormed out, annoyed anger bubbling up in her stomach.
She reached out with her magic so that the heavy wooden door would crash open, giving her a rage fueled and dramatic entrance. Voldemort spun to face the intruder with fire in his eyes; broken furniture and tattered books littering the room around him.
"What?" he asked in a venomous tone, straightening his shoulders as he realized she was not one of his lackeys.
"Why" Morgana began, in no way intimidated by the man, "do you insist on making such a disturbance at all hours?"
"You have no right to question me" he replied coolly, trying to loom over the witch threateningly.
Morgana seemed immune to his aura however, "I do when you're interrupting my research" she matched his sneer, somehow managing to look down at the man despite his taller frame, "I am doing it for one of your machinations am I not?
Voldemort's face contorted into a grimace, "it's the Potter boy. The Order has taught him to shield his mind from me. My plans to obtain the prophecy cannot continue like this."
"Your modern mind magic is child-like" Morgana scoffed, waving her hand so some of the books returned to their homes on the shelves, "it has nothing compared to the power of the old religion." She looked up at the man and saw what seemed to be thinly veiled anger on his gaunt face. Once again she questioned why she was working under a man she could quite easily destroy.
With an annoyed huff she continued to elaborate, "if you can't get through the boy's defenses with your methods, use mine."
Voldemort seemed to ponder this for a moment, "do you really think your magical...techniques...would be more effective than modern ones?"
Morgana let out a rude noise, "without a doubt. Why is this boy so important to you in the first place?"
"He holds information I require" Voldemort replied simply with a sweep of his robes, as he turned to look out of the single window adorning the opposite wall, "he is young, his Occlumency should not be this strong after so little training. There are very few people with defenses strong enough to resist me."
A thick silence fell between the two as Morgana watched the wizard ponder. She waved her hand one more and the splintered furniture began to repair itself. As important as this man seemed to be, he seemed even more volatile than even she.
"What do you propose we do about the situation?" he finally asked, words carefully chosen. Morgana knew he was testing her, if she could accomplish something he could not maybe she could finally earn his respect.
"It will take three wizards, one for each era of the mind" she began to explain, "done right, suggestions can be implanted from far away, suggestions that can be nearly impossible to resist."
Voldemort glanced back at her, intrigued, "done wrong?"
"You destroy his mind, or maybe your own" she replied with a wave of her hand, "choose one of your lackeys that is talented in the study of cogitationes, and when you are ready I will train you in the ways of the old magics."
Voldemort nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits. Done right it seemed as if he could use this technique to his advantage many times over. Being able to influence ministry officials indirectly all while keeping his resurrection hidden from public eye could be an invaluable tool. He glanced back at the obsidian-hearted witch behind him.
An invaluable tool indeed.
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Harry laughed at his friends' antics as the three of them stepped off the train, crisp spring air stinging his nostrils.
Snow that had blanketed the ground when he had boarded the train only a week ago was now a mess of slush and puddles that rested haphazardly across the brick ground.
Despite the warmer weather however, ice had still managed to gather on the train throughout their journey and teachers had started to melt it off with heating spells.
"You know in a world of magic; you'd think we could come up with a safer method of melting ice" Hermione scoffed as yet another adult burned their hand.
"You know wizards and their tradition" Harry replied with a roll of his eyes and a shrug.
"Want to go take some laps around the field when we get rid of this mess?" Ron asked Harry gesturing to their trunks.
"Ron, we need to start studying! You had all of last week to fly with Harry" Hermione started to lecture, "if you don't start taking your OWLs seriously you're going to fail them!"
"I'll be okay" Ron repeated for the fourth time that day, though Harry could tell even the most laid back of the golden trio was starting to implode under the pressures of their looming exams.
"We need to make a structured weekly study plan for each class, maybe we should try to get the other 5th years involved..." Hermione began muttering to herself, or stress planning as Harry had started to call it.
"It's almost ridiculous to get this worked up about grades when we still have Voldemort left to defeat" Ron joked, looking over at his two friends.
Hermione stopped in her tracks with a huff, "Ronald our grades will still matter after this war is over...after we win!"
Ron couldn't keep the smile off his face at this declaration, "guess you're right 'Mione."
"Why don't we drop our trunks off and head down to the library?" Harry suggested, "get started on all that studying we still need to make up." Hermione nodded encouragingly and Ron groaned, but did not argue.
"I hope you all had a good break" a voice said from off to the left and the trio turned to see Merlin and King Arthur walking towards them with carefree smiles that always followed the arrival of spring.
"It was very relaxing" Ron replied longingly, feeling his motivation to study begin to drain away at the thought of it.
"Last of that for the foreseeable future" Harry grumbled, glancing over at his bushy haired friend who seemed to be muttering something about 'you two' under her breath.
"Watch out!" one of the teachers melting the train suddenly yelled from behind them as a rogue heating spell careened towards the quintet.
Time seemed to slow down as the maroon jet of light shot towards the group, each one of them seemingly frozen in place as it came closer and closer.
After seemingly an eternity all five sprang into action at once, flinging themselves out of the path of the deadly jet, no one even thinking to draw their wands.
The spell struck Arthur in the center of the chest, and time seemed to return to normal as he stumbled backwards. The trio all whipped their heads back around, horrified to see how much damage the spell would have caused.
"Arthur!" Merlin cried, springing into action and one hand grabbing his best friend's arm with the other raised and ready to perform every healing incantation he knew.
But Arthur simply blinked as he regained his balance, glancing down at the scorched shirt that now hung loosely off of his body.
"Are you alright?" Professor McGonagall exclaimed as she and the other teachers came racing over.
"Bloody hell" Ron muttered as everyone looked on in awe at the King's now exposed, yet undamaged, chest.
"What was that?" Merlin snapped at the group of teachers who were all staring in shock at the confused King.
"I don't...how?" Professor Flitwick stuttered.
"I liked this shirt" Arthur muttered under his breath, causing Ron to let out an amused snort.
"Professor, what is going on?" Hermione finally asked, eyebrows knitted together.
"I...oh my god it actually worked...I never tested...holy..." Merlin muttered under his breath, scratching his chin and looking back at the burnt fabric of the shirt.
"If you would stop staring at my chest that would be wonderful Merlin" Arthur crossed his arms and glared at his friends.
Merlin rolled his eyes and muttered 'prat' under his breath.
"Care to explain what you're thinking?" Arthur asked as the teachers began to herd stunned students back to the castle.
"Well...this castle, Camelot, is a sacred place for the Pendragons. It has been so for a millennia. The connection must have strengthened over time, I never thought it would have worked." Merlin pondered.
"What on earth are you talking about?" Arthur rolled his eyes.
"I have texts in my room that may explain it but...I can't tell you here, you have to read it for yourself" Merlin looked vaguely guilty for a moment.
"What did you do Merlin?" Arthur asked, exasperated. The only other times he had ever seen that look on Merlin's face was when he knew he had done something that would get him thrown in the Stocks.
"I made an oath, nearly 900 years ago with...never mind you'll just have to go read it for yourself" He said quietly, looking back towards the castle a bit wistfully.
"Merlin what did you do?" Arthur asked again, looking a bit weary. Although the young king had grown increasingly comfortable around magic he was still extremely weary when the magic in question involved him.
"The texts can only be read by a Pendragon" Merlin explained, "come with me and I'll show them to you."
And so the two men walked back towards the castle, leaving a smattering of witches and wizards looking after them in confused awe.
"Those two are even worse than you are when you're studying Hermione" Ron finally said.
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked in a warning tone.
"I don't even think they realized the rest of us were still here."
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The walk up to the castle was extremely awkward. Merlin continued to have a guilty airs surrounding him which only made Arthur grow more apprehensive with each step. The warm spring day suddenly seemed a bit cold as he wondered what kind of magics Merlin had tied to the Pendragon line. He knew his friend would never do anything to intentionally harm him, but the way he refused to make the King's eyes made him wary of what the warlock had done.
Arthur felt questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none managed to escape past his lips. He studied the way Merlin's brow furrowed as he marched towards the castle, it was a familiar expression to both of them. Merlin had had to hide a lot from him, he realized. Arthur thought back to all the times he had ordered Merlin to be punished or Merlin had showed up late in the mornings battered and exhausted.
He wondered how much fear his friend had lived in, from day to day in a kingdom that would have killed him if they had known the truth.
Arthur felt a paralyzing pang of guilt. He may have killed Merlin had he known. He liked to imagine that he would have spared his friend but...
Suddenly whatever Merlin may have done didn't seem so bad.
The two men walked side by side, a faint breeze reminding Arthur that despite the cold atmosphere that had appeared around them spring had still arrived in full force.
As the two entered the giant doors leading into the castle, he sighed. Arthur could remember a spring day that felt only months ago where he walked the grounds with his beautiful queen, happening upon Merlin and Gwaine making some sort of mischief in the stables that were once visible from the window he now walked past.
After nearly falling off of a moving staircase, Arthur reminded himself that this was not his Camelot. His Camelot had died nearly a millennium ago. Everyone he had ever known, all the noblemen who had annoyed him so, all the peasants who toiled in the lower circle each and every day were gone.
Every single person he had ever known was dead and Merlin was all he had left.
Merlin pushed open the heavy door and a small poof of dust rose to greet the two men.
As he followed his friend into his bedroom, Arthur realized that this was the first time he had ever seen his friend's quarters in the daylight. The two men had practically moved in together as Merlin always visited Arthur when his teaching duties had ended and the two men normally talked so long they dozed off. Every time they had traveled down to use the fireplace the room had always been dark and Arthur never had any time to nose around.
A thin layer of dust coated the bedside table and desk, but the bed was nicely made and the floor clean. Hundreds of books adorned shelves that seemed to big to fit against the walls, a strange looking stone creature sat atop one of them and Arthur could have sworn the thing was looking at him. Merlin seemed to have collected things from every single place he had gone in their time apart. Most looked completely foreign to him, but still the room seemed so personal, so inviting.
So Merlin.
Arthur turned towards the mantle place and sucked in a breath. The Pendragon crest stood out proudly against the dull stone wall. It seemed just as immaculate as it was when it was first gifted to Uther by the court seamstress when Arthur was a boy. He felt his eyes well up slightly at the memory of his father, the last of Arthur's family. Next to the crest were dozens of moving paintings, or photos as Merlin had called them. In each he wore a wide smile and Arthur could see in the millennia he had been asleep Merlin had flourished. Freedom looked good on him.
But despite this, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He had missed so much in his friend's life. To Arthur it had felt like only a few hours since he had last seen his best friend when they were reunited but to Merlin it was centuries. He had lived lifetimes while Arthur had slept.
"Alright there mate?" Merlin asked suddenly, uneasy in the silence that permeated the room.
"Y-yes...yeah" Arthur answered after a long pause, "you've just...done so much."
Merlin smiled, "you know I never stopped, no matter where I went."
"What?"
"Never stopped missing you, Gwen, the knights. Never" Merlin explained with a nostalgic half smile.
Arthur smiled back but turned his attention to a small wooden box Merlin had placed on the desk in front of him, "the texts?"
Merlin nodded, turning back to the box. He muttered something Arthur couldn't hear and the lid blew open roughly.
Merlin winced but reached inside and Arthur thought his arm went deeper then the shallow box allowed. It took a moment of rummaging but soon the warlock pulled out a small stack of cracking yellowed papers. He laid them out on the desk and Arthur frowned; they were blank.
"What is this Merlin?"
"Look closer" Merlin said simply and Arthur did as he was told. Suddenly words appeared on the papers, old English written in a dull black ink.
Arthur started to read and felt his stomach drop ever so slightly, from what little he knew about magic what Merlin had done to him and the grounds of Camelot was serious.
"You bound my soul...to the castle?" he finally asked dangerously.
"Yes..." Merlin sighed.
"Why?!" Arthur continued.
"Because if you came back it was the only way to save you" Merlin said quietly, "as soon as the founders asked to use the grounds for their school, I knew it would become dangerous when you returned and I knew I had to protect you somehow. I honestly didn't even think it would work."
"Couldn't you have explained this down at the trains?" Arthur crossed his arms.
"That was a safeguard I put on the contract to make sure no one ever knew. You are the only one that can read the papers or describe the terms. I wanted to make sure no wizards could ever prepare against you when the time came. I wanted the element of surprise."
"And you even included yourself?"
"Better safe than sorry" Merlin smiled slightly.
"So as long as the castle stands..." Arthur began in wonderment.
"You do too" Merlin finished, "of course it doesn't extend to natural maladies like illness or aging, but no mortal can harm you on these grounds."
"How did you bind it to my soul if you didn't have...me?" Arthur finally asked, looking over the contract again.
"I used an object that your soul is also bound to, it was enough" Merlin said mischievously.
"What object?"
"Excalibur."
"My soul is bound to my sword?" Arthur's eyes bulged.
"Both our souls actually. When Kilgarah forged it he bound it to both of us."
"My sword was made by a dragon?!" Arthur exclaimed.
"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies" Merlin joked, but nodded in affirmation.
Arthur crossed his arms and sighed, looking towards the large window that allowed the spring sunlight to stream into the dusty bedroom. There was so much he did not know. But he could fight, if need be he could fight.
He was suddenly very thankful Merlin had done what he had. Those magical devils could try their best to blast him but as a baleful smile crept onto his face he wondered how their faces would look when a non-magical man struck them down with just a sword.
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So uh I meant to update a little earlier then this but oops. If anyone was wondering how a muggle would actually be useful in a wizard fight there you go. I've also posted the first chapter to another Harry Potter fic, and I would really appreciate if you'd all take a look. I don't think the second chapter will be uploaded any time soon, but I was having some trouble with this story and decided to just write for 4 hours on something else. I'm actually really proud of the first chapter so I hope those of you that read it enjoy it too. Reviews are deeply appreciated, let me know how you feel about this story!