Author's Note:
So Santa's slay had a malfunction so he had to do a test run today, so I saw Santa's slay crossing the sky... I'm not actually kidding, it was a thing!
IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE! I hope we're all excited for the festivities tomorrow! I'm going to my Granny and Grandad's and my cousins are coming and I'm pretty excited!
This is my Christmas present to you!
Merry Christmas everybody! Have fun and enjoy!
Chapter 26: Christmas Hope
Christmas had come with an unexpected vibrancy, which before that day, not even the most insane of fortune tellers could have deemed it possible in such harrowing times.
People filled the streets, having done away with the usual celebrations: a solitary dinner with the closest – or not so – members of the family and instead had taken those visitors and joined the scores of wanders trying to piece together the beauty of life before it had the chance to be snatched away from them. It was – Merlin thought – amazing how always in the face of something so malevolent, the world finally revealed itself to anyone caught long enough to appreciate it.
What made the day even more breath-taking was the blanket of white which sprinkled the ground all over Britain – a white Christmas to end all Christmases. The weather, though over the last few weeks had been deteriorating, had chosen that one day to get it right.
This, this was the reason why Merlin had worked so hard to save this race. This was humanity at its best: loving, peaceful and united.
Slowly, he lead his band of allies away from the crowds and, linking hands, they disappeared into thin air, reappearing in a field; the ruins of a medieval castle watching over them. In front of them rose a large mound of earth covered by a coating of snow, which from a plane may have looked much like icing on a cake.
Merlin proceeded, stopping just before the small hill and turned to greet his little brigade of followers. He glanced at Arthur, who was staring, like a lost puppy at the ruins above them. A look of puzzlement, but also recognition crossed his face like a shadow. In that moment Merlin could understand exactly what his friend was feeling, the fact that he had not come here in so long was proof of that. The longing was just too painful.
"Where are we?" Ron muttered.
Merlin chose to ignore him. "This is my gift to you all." He began. "We're so close to the end now, I thought it would be appropriate. You see, I wanted to end it where for me, it really all began."
He turned back to the mound, and pawed at the snow until he reached solid ground. Poising the tips of his figures at a forty – five degree angle to the slope, he whispered "ábir" and dug his arm impossibly fluidly into the solid ground.
His palm, fully submerged in hard dirt, settled on a smooth metal ring. He smiled to himself and, without a moments more hesitation, enclosed his figures around it, pulling it towards himself with all his might.
Slowly, a ton of snow and earth slid away from the mound's side; a door, moving at Merlin's will from under it. The door was tall and wide, a half circle calved out of age old oak. Druidic symbols so old, even Hermione had not come across them, where inked into its face and as Merlin heaved it fully open; it revealed the pitch black space behind it.
The group stood in awe at the sudden transformation: the door with all its glory; the mound, though not big enough to be a hill, still fully capable of fitting a two story house within its walls.
Merlin raised his hand and a hundred or so flame-touches flickered into life, lining the walls of what was now visible as a large dome, so magnificent that it wouldn't have been out of place in mosque or palace.
A spiral staircase dotted with thousands of tiny candles rose up on their right, leading to what at first glance looked like nowhere, but as the group stared in awe, they realised there must have be some sort of floor. Transparent, but defiantly there, as objects like chairs and desks hung wondrously in the air without any wires or supports to keep them in place.
Flags; red and gold, fluttered in the wind of the open door sporting dragons; fire licking from their nostrils.
After a few seconds Arthur laughed, his attention pointed to the centre-most object of the room: a large round table, its middle baring the same dragon as the flags. Without another word Arthur set forward for the table, Merlin moving quick on his heels.
Arthur turned to face him. "This is my knight's table!" He laughed again, "And those are my flags and that…" he gestured to an object on the invisible second floor "that I hazard a guess is my desk!" Merlin smiled but that smile wavered a little as he realised, with a jolt of his heart, that Arthur was fingering the place where Gwen would have sat if this had been the hall in Camelot all those years ago.
Ron cleared his throat. "This is all very impressive Merlin, but it still doesn't help us find Morgana. We have less than six days."
"I know… I thought coming here might prompt me in some way… because to be honest I have no idea what I'm doing." He sat down in one of the chairs; Leaning his elbows on the curve of the table.
Mordred who, like always, had been sombrely hovering at the edge of the group, moved forward to join him, smiling comfortingly "We'll find her… If there's any hope in the world we'll find her."
Harry nodded, "Then the end beings here." He moved to the table: an indication for the rest left standing to join him.
Finally, as Ron slouched in his seat, Merlin opened his mouth to begin… but stopped. A noise had come to his attention; a humming, like bee's wings. Merlin was taken aback, what on earth could that be? He looked around but the others were equally stunned.
The humming grew louder, almost musical, like a quire muffled by old church walls.
Suddenly a light flared from the middle of the table: reaching up to the ceiling; curved in a perfect circle around the dragon emblem encrusted at the centre.
Ron jolted back in his chair with a start, knocking Luna, who was staring at the light with a sort of awed, vacant expression on her face.
"Stop" Merlin ordered, gesturing toward Ron "Everybody say at the table."
"Why?" Hermione whispered "What's going on?"
"I don't know… just…stay." He stood, hand still resting on the wooden surface.
An object had become visible from within the light, a crystal, long, white and jagged with random smooth, shiny areas, which reflected the light, directing it outwards instead of up. It seemed to be rising out of the table, its bottom point just slipping into the air above; it hovered there within the ring of light, the scene was captivating: beautiful but terrible at the same time. Just like the power that Merlin knew the crystal held.
Merlin gathered himself, realising the breath which had caught in his throat. Counting to three, he raised his figures from the table's surface. As he had suspected, the light disappeared with a flash, and the crystal tumbled to the table, banging the surface and rolling slightly before it came to a stop just in front of Merlin.
"Isn't that..." Mordred mumbled.
Hermione walked round and studied the crystal from behind Merlin. "I thought they were all destroyed."
"They were" Merlin answered.
"And I thought there was only one of them… we had it locked away in the Camelot dungeons… until you stole it." Arthur said, looking at Mordred.
Mordred rolled his eyes "I'm sorry Arthur, but that was literally centuries ago!"
"There was a cave full of them." Merlin interrupted "But Hermione's right they were thought to be lost during the Second World War… the Germans used to empty any unused bombs over the countryside as they returned home, one of them landed on the cave and everything was destroyed. It seems however, that this one survived." He still had not touched it and he didn't want to; he had never seen anything good in that stone.
Hermione seemed to understand; putting a hand lightly on his shoulder "It doesn't have to be you. Any one of us could do it."
Merlin shook his head "I learnt long ago not to fear knowledge"
He sat down, and steadying himself, he looked into the crystal's heart, searching each crevice, searching for an answer; for his future.
Rapidly, images swam before his eyes, lingering only for a second before others barged into their place: sorrow, regret, anger and hate. Merlin felt like he had been watching them for hours, when in fact it, had been but seconds.
When the visions passed he gripped the table; knuckles turning white.
"I know what to do." He croaked.
When Harry had ended the battle between himself and Voldemort all those years ago he had never thought he would be involved in anything so huge, so worldly again. But maybe after all this was over that wish would finally be certain.
Could there really be world peace? He doubted it. After all, as long as there were humans there would be different views and as long as there were different views there would be conflict in one form or another; but maybe this time it could be different. Maybe people would think twice before judging others, maybe they'd try and find a way before they raised a hand against another. He hoped that could be the case.
Hope. That was the reason he was here. Hope was the reason he was walking along this steep, snowy mountain path with its desolate surroundings and icy winds.
Behind him walked Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Nevil and George: looking sombre as he always did when he thought no one was looking. The older man had turned up outside the place were Merlin had taken them, having somehow traced them and had refused to leave their side.
Of course, all of their friends knew their mission now, and they had been helping in their own ways by Merlin's order: posted all over the world in places like Russia, America and China.
Harry wondered how long they had left to walk, they'd been on foot now for the best part of half an hour; having packed their brooms up, due to the low hanging tree branches making following the path on brooms treacherous. The snow was building up, the trees doing little to block it; it was nearly reaching over the toe of Harry's boot.
Merlin had told them they were looking for a small house; built below ground, it's door fully upright and visible, opening onto a large, rectangular dip in the landscape. He had said that this was what he had seen in the crystal. He had also said that Morgana had stayed her before – hiding from Prince Arthur's knights. Like Merlin it had not aged; protected by the witch's lingering magic.
Minutes later the path started to level, and Harry came to a stop in front of a sheer drop about 10 meters deep. Directly ahead, a door could be seen emerging from a small snow drift – weak and wooden.
Harry's heart started racing. She was in there, he knew it.
When they entered, Morgana was lying on a bed made out of what looked like tree branches. She appeared to be sleeping.
Harry gestured for Hermione to stay concealed behind the door whilst the others moved forward cautiously and quietly. With bated breath, Harry reached the foot of her bed, almost touching her.
Suddenly, he was flung back with such power that his body rattled the wall he landed against, making his vision blur and sending the world spinning. He tried to steady himself, tried to concentrate on the scene in front of him:
His friends had backed away, wands pointed at a figure: Morgana, who was now standing tall beside the bed. Ron was kneeled next to Harry and was saying something, but it was so muffled by a thumping in Harry's ears that he had no idea what his friend intended to get across.
Harry could not see Morgana's expression, but saw her hands rise, palms facing towards his friends. However, one of his companions was quicker - probably Luna who had moved round behind Morgana when she had stood up and sent her flying toward the door.
Harry's mind was clearing; he could now hear Ron next to him asking if he was alright. Harry nodded briskly and tried to upright himself, only to topple back down and rest on his friend's outstretched arm.
"Stay there mate, we can deal with it for now" Ron said patting Harry on the back and joining the fight.
Harry shook his head, and tried to stand, but for now there was no use. All he could do was watch.
The conflict in the hut was escalating, his friend's grim faces hard with concentration. They were winning, Harry could see that, but they were exhausted from the hike too and Nevil was badly bleeding.
Together, the five had pushed Morgana toward the door and she stood in the open frame, her face warped into a sly smile.
Suddenly, Hermione jumped out from her hiding space, grabbing the priestess around the neck and the two immediately disappeared, leaving the wind to whip snow around the places where they had just stood.
They had done it. Harry smiled giddily to himself, looking around at the others. With a pang of anxiety, he wondered why they had not joined him in his glee. Harry traced their panicked eyes to the place – the person which they were staring at and with a jolt, he realised that George was teetering on his feet.
With a pained yell the man fell to his knees. Ginny caught him before he toppled backwards, her eyes brimming with tears.
It seemed Hermione had been too late. Morgana had sent one last curse at the group, and it had hit George right in the heart.
With a tremendous effort Harry stumbled over and rested a hand on his wife's shoulder. He could see George was still awake, but his breathing was shallow – almost not there at all.
"You know, I always wanted to die in a sun kissed field with a clear sky above me..." George murmured; his voice barely audible.
"You're not going to die." Ron croaked.
"Don't lie to me little bro, its snow joke… get it? Snow." He coughed, a weak arm rising slightly to indicate the blizzard outside.
There was a deadly silence for a moment then Harry shook his head, "No." He gulped "No, we're going to get you out of here, and we're going to fix you up in time for the New Year." He looked at everybody's sombre faces "Come on let's go back."
Ginny, cradled her older brother in her arms and nodded, then the group apperated away, leaving the hut and the mountain and the chilling snow behind.