Chapter 5: In Which King Arthur, Sir Gwaine, and Maid Merlin Start Training
Arthur huffed as he sat down, his wand clutched in his hand. Mr. Lupin had been training them intensely for the past few days. Arthur was exhausted. He had suffered through some incredibly tiring training sessions with the knights, but this was a different sort of exhaustion. It was inside him- deep in his bones- and they hadn't even done much.
It had all started several days ago, with the visit of an old man named Ollivander. Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine had been called into the sitting room and had found him there, surrounded by piles of boxes. His eyes lit up when he saw them, particularly when they stopped on Merlin.
It had been Dumbledore who had explained to them: "You'll be choosing your wands."
Ollivander had narrowed his eyes. "No, they most certainly will not. Their wands will be choosing them."
"My apologies," Dumbledore said with a slight bow. "Of course."
Apparently what this meant was that the three of them would be forced to try out wand after wand until one of them chose them. Arthur had no idea what this meant, but Ollivander assured him that he'd recognize it when he saw it.
At the rate he was going, though, he wouldn't recognize it at all. He tried wand after wand, but nothing seemed to happen. Ollivander didn't seem to mind too much, but did grumble about not having his full shop at his disposal. In fact, they had just about reached the end of the pile (with Ollivander contemplating returning to his shop for more wands) when Arthur finally found his wand.
Ollivander handed it to him. "12 and 1/2 inches, Mahogany. An uncommon core: hippogriff talon. This is a wand that demands respect from its wielder, but will no doubt show him-or her- great respect in return. Once it's earned, of course. Sturdy."
Arthur had known something was different from the moment he picked it up- there was a warm tingling in his bones, not unlike what he had felt when pulling the Excalibur from the stone not that long ago. Arthur gave the wand an experimental wave and was shocked when, from it, burst a smattering of red and gold sparkles (Pendragon colors, appropriately enough). This was followed by some cheerful-and some relieved- clapping from the others. Glad that it was finally over, Arthur clutched his wand sat down, making himself comfortable to watch the show.
Gwaine's wand also took a while, but not nearly as long as Arthur's. Gwaine only got through three or four wands before finally finding his, as evidenced by the strong gust of wind that blew through the room.
"Rowan and griffin claw- an excellent wand for dueling, with great agility and speed." Ollivander informed them. "12 and 3/4 inches, and more flexible."
Arthur had been particularly looking forward to seeing Merlin choose her wand. He had expected it to take ages. Merlin was, after all, useless at just about everything. Having a wand choose her should be no exception.
He was wrong.
Ollivander was incredibly giddy as Merlin came forth, ready to begin trying wands.
"Oh!" He exclaimed. "I've been waiting for you, Merlin! I know just the wand for you, my dear girl!"
He went immediately to a specific box, one that he had set aside earlier. He pulled out a wand, definitely smaller and thinner than the previous ones. Arthur would've said that the wand certainly looked more delicate than the other wands, but it was made of a dark, glossy wood that gave it the impression of an underlying strength. Ollivander held out the wand to Merlin.
"Give it a wave!" He instructed eagerly. Merlin did so.
From her wand, emerged a stream of beautiful bubbles, shimmering this way and that, and humming a beautiful song. They floated easily in the air above them as everybody stood, dumbstruck. Arthur couldn't help but reach up and touch one. It was incredibly delicate and Arthur half-expected it to pop, but it didn't. Instead, it settled in his hand, surprisingly warm. It felt as though it was to be made from perfectly clear crystal, but was lit up on the inside in a myriad of blues: dark ones and light ones and pale ones and bold ones.
For a moment, Arthur wondered how something this beautiful could be evil. But- they had to be. They were magic.
Arthur was brought back to the time, all those years ago, when he had been on a quest to save Merlin after she had been poisoned. He had been helped by an orb very similar to these, and had doubted it just the same. As if hearing his thoughts, the bubbles chose that moment to glow brighter than before, and then popping, letting a rain of delicate white lights fall down on them all, fading just before they touched the ground.
It was Gwaine who summed up what they were all thinking: "That was incredible."
"English oak and Dragon heart-string." Ollivander said proudly of the wand, looking at Merlin now as though she had given him one of the greatest gifts he had ever received. "Ten inches and rigid. A difficult wand, to be sure, but a powerful one, and, as proven, also capable of great delicacy and finesse in spell casting, but only if in the hands of the right witch."
Merlin was still dumbstruck, looking at her wand as though surprised at what she was done. Arthur couldn't blame her. He had seen his maidservant mess up even the most easy of tasks. For her to be capable of such a beautiful (and yes, he'd admit it) piece of magic was almost unfathomable.
"Thank-you, Ollivander," Dumbledore said softly. "We appreciate your coming all this way."
"I assure you," Ollivander answered back, just as softly, "That it was my pleasure."
After that, the spell seemed to be broken and the warmth that Arthur had felt with the appearance of the glowing bubbles vanished.
Soon, Remus had them doing basic, never-ending exercises to work on their self-control. Despite his exhaustion, Arthur was pleased to note that it seemed to have worked. Things had stopped blowing up because of his magic.
His magic.
The other sorcerers (members of an organization called the Order of the Phoenix, as Arthur now knew) were all incredibly kind and more than happy to help him deal with his magic. He'd never stop being suspicious, but Arthur had to admit that, well, he sort of liked them.
He knew Merlin liked them all, especially. She seemed to spend most of her time with the twins, who, Arthur also had to admit, were hilarious. Sirius, one of the adults, seemed to get along well with Merlin, too, although he seemed slightly more on edge about something. Arthur had no idea what.
Of course, Merlin may have just liked them because they were the only three who treated her normally. The others, especially the kids, seemed very skittish around Merlin, and even Arthur and Gwaine. Whenever one of them walked into a room, it would go silent, and the subject would change hastily, as though the three weren't supposed to overhear the conversation. Merlin hadn't said much, but he knew that Hermione and Ginny, who she was sharing a room with, didn't talk to her much and that this bothered Merlin, who took every opportunity to make new friends. Even Mr. Lupin (or Remus, as he said to call him) would occasionally shoot them odd looks as they proceeded through their lessons.
Out of them all, Merlin did seem to be handling it best. She didn't have any issues with controlling her magic, Arthur noticed, but rather seemed to find the wand movements strange. Once she got used to those, she proceeded with ease.
Gwaine was comfortable with the wand movements (but considering his grace with the sword, Arthur supposed this wasn't too surprising), but like Arthur, he lacked control. What he lacked in control, he made up in enthusiasm, at least.
Arthur just hated the entire thing.
And it showed.
He spent most of his lessons glowering at anybody who looked at him. Most of the time, this happened to be Remus. Admittedly, Arthur did feel rather bad about that. The mild-mannered man hadn't done anything to deserve his scorn (aside form the whole "magic" thing) and was actually an excellent teacher. He reminded Arthur of-
SPLASH!
Arthur sputtered as a large glass of water was dumped onto his head. Reaching up to wipe his face, he glared at Merlin, who was smiling proudly, wand clutched firmly in her hand, which she had just used to pour water all over him. Next to her, Remus was congratulating her.
"Very good work, Merlin. Your control is improving," he praised, as Merlin levitated the now-empty cup of water onto the coffee table in the corner.
"She just dumped water all over me!" Arthur protested indignantly.
Remus raised an eyebrow in Arthur's direction. "Perhaps if you payed attention during our lessons, you'd learn how to get back at her."
Before Arthur could come up with an appropriate response, the Floo behind him roared to life. He barely had time to step out of the way as Mr. Weasley came barreling through, looking more serious than Merlin had ever seen him.
"Arthur," Remus said, surprised, as Mr. Weasley coughed from some ash in the fireplace. "We weren't expecting you. I apologize about the ash. We haven't had time to clean-"
"Harry's been attacked," Mr. Weasley interrupted. "By dementors."
All the blood seemed to drain from Remus's face. "Is he alright?"
"He managed to scare it off with a Patronus, according to Arabella," Mr. Weasley explained rapidly. "However the Ministry is now threatening to break his wand and with expulsion from Hogwarts. I've sent him a letter telling him to stay put, but I need to speak with Albus-"
"Yes, yes, of course. He's in the kitchen. You three," Remus said quickly, turning to Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine, "Go upstairs. To your rooms. Now!"
Surprised to hear the sharp tone of the usually mellow-mannered man, they hurried upstairs as Remus and Mr. Weasley disappeared into the kitchen. Instead of heading to their rooms, however, they were blocked by Hermione and Ron, and Ron's brothers and sister. The twins had one of their inventions in (which, to Merlin, looked like an ear attached to some string), ready to try and overhear the conversation downstairs.
In the short time that she'd been here, Merlin had noticed a few strange things about everyone. The first was the lack of a willingness to share information. The adults kept to themselves and so did the children (calling them "children" was another strange thing, since Merlin was now not much older than they were). There were also quite a few conversations (on both sides) about somebody named Harry. Merlin had heard the name so many times now that she thought she might be sick of it soon, but nobody had ever bothered explaining who he was.
Considering that Merlin tended to hear his name through closed doors and behind walls, this wasn't too surprising.
Right now, though, the eight of them stood at the top of the staircase, not saying anything. It seemed that Hermione and Ron and the others seemed slightly abashed at being caught trying to eavesdrop again. Arthur, still soaking wet from his earlier meeting with a glass of water, was trying to maintain some of his dignity. Gwaine and Merlin were just watching the whole thing, trying desperately not to laugh.
Merlin shuffled closer to Gwaine and turned her head to the side, hiding her smile behind his arm and burying her face in the sleeve of Gwaine's red jumper, as Molly had called it.
The Weasley matriarch had given Merlin and her two friends a new set of clothes the day after they had arrived in the strange city of London. Merlin wasn't too sure what to make of them. She liked the the material (denim) of the new trousers she had been given- they were comfortable and sturdy- but the t-shirt felt a bit too thin and a bit too tight for her. She had slipped her red scarf on top and felt slightly better about it.
The fact that the new clothes were a bit more form fitting did have it's advantages, though, particularly in respects to Gwaine. It seemed she wasn't the only one who had noticed. She wasn't the only girl in the house slipping him (and Arthur, but that thought made her sick) glances, and not the they've-traveled-in-time glances that had become normal around Grimmauld Place, either; and Gwaine seemed more than happy to slip her glances in return.
Like right now.
Gwaine looked down fondly at her, making no attempt to hide his smile, and winked.
"You can put that away," Gwaine informed the younger teens, smirking at them. He had found the group's attempts to listen on the adults' conversations highly amusing. "There's no Order meeting today."
"Oh," Ron said, disappointed. "What's all the fuss about then? Is my dad here?"
"He's here to see Dumbledore," Merlin offered. "Something about Harry being attacked by- what was it? Dementors, I think."
Merlin wasn't really sure what she'd said, but her words had a surprising effect on the others. Particularly Ginny, who gasped loudly and looked as though she were ready to faint. One of the twins steadied her and Ron, who's freckles stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin, demanded, "Is he alright?"
"Your father said that he was able to defend himself," Arthur said firmly, in the same sort of voice he used to calm worried villagers after an attack. It was an authoritative voice, a calming voice, and it seemed to have its intended affect.
"Dementors seem to make you lot worried," Gwaine noted, remembering a similar reaction from Remus downstairs. "What are they, exactly?"
"They're these big black things," began one of the twins. The other nodded eagerly and finished, "Yea, yea. They feed on your happiness, leaving nothing but bad feelings and memories behind."
"Dementors, then," Gwaine repeated. "They sound like the Dorocha," Gwaine said thoughtfully.
"Pardon?" Hermione asked confusedly. It didn't seem as though confusion was an emotion she was familiar with.
"They're as you said," Merlin cut in. "These large, dark shapes that leave you feeling cold and empty inside."
"I suppose they could be the same thing," Hermione muttered, already itching to go look it up in some books. "The terminology might've shifted with the disappearance of Old English and the like-"
"We'll take your word for it," Arthur interrupted, not in the mood for a History of Magic lecture at the moment.
"Do they kiss you when they get too close?" Ginny asked quietly.
Merlin frowned. "Ah- The Dorocha, you mean?"
"A dementor's kiss sucks out your soul," Ron said darkly. "It's supposed to be almost unbearable to watch. You're basically left as a hollow shell. Nobody lives that way for long. They usually die soon enough."
"It's likewise for the Dorocha," Arthur said firmly. "Nobody's survived an attack. Well- save for Merlin."
Merlin suddenly found all eyes on her. She blushed and laughed, scratching awkwardly at the back of her neck. "Yea, well, you said so yourself, Arthur. I can't do anything properly. Why should dying be any different?"
"Thank the gods for that," Arthur said, in a rare moment of honesty. Merlin smiled brightly at him. She knew that they were friends (and that he knew it, too), but it wasn't often that they showed open affection for each other. At least, not normal open affection. Their version of affection was throwing things at each other and insulting each other.
"I bet it didn't work on you because of your ma- Ow! Hermione!" Ron's eager exclamation was interrupted by Hermione stepping violently on his toes, silencing him. Merlin's eyes widened as one of her suspicions was finally confirmed: they knew about her magic, and that she had had it before this whole mess started.
It had, of course, been a source of concern for her for a while. If these strange wizards did no about her magic, it was only a matter of time before word got around to Arthur. At least, that had been what she thought. So far, though, nobody seemed too inclined to reveal anything to him. Merlin wondered if it was because of Arthur's little speech on the first day of their arrival, or if it was something else. Regardless, she was grateful.
Ginny, looking much more calm before, sighed. "Right. That's- well, that's good then. So, that's why our dad is here, then."
"He wanted to talk to Dumbledore," Merlin added as an afterthought, distracted from her thoughts about her magic. "Something about expulsion and breaking his wand-"
"What?" was the general outcry.
Arthur glared at Merlin. His look clearly said, "You honestly know nothing about keeping people calm."
Once again speaking firmly, Arthur said, "Your father said that Dumbledore will take care of it Mr. Weasley has also already sent Harry a letter, informing him that the matter is being resolved as quickly as possible."
Admittedly, that wasn't quite what Mr. Weasley had said, but Merlin decided to keep her mouth shut on this one.
"I wish we could write to Harry," Ron scowled. "Just to see that he's alright, you know?"
"Who exactly is Harry?" Merlin said, finally taking the opportunity to ask. The thought that Merlin, Gwaine, and Arthur wouldn't know who Harry was seemed shocking to everyone else. They exchanged glances.
"Why- why," Hermione began, only to pause, not really sure where to start. "He's Sirius's godson."
"And our best mate," Ron added fiercely.
"But he's stuck with his rotten aunt and uncle for the summer-"
"-and his fat cousin," the twins threw in.
"Well that sounds terrible," Merlin said, wrinkling her nose in sympathetic disgust. "Why don't you just bring him here, then?"
"Because it's safer for some reason," Hermione said exasperatedly. "But I don't understand how! Especially not what happened last year- Harry should be here," Hermione said abruptly, changing the subject as though she had said too much. "But Dumbledore doesn't want to listen to reason!"
"I assure you, Ms. Granger," said Dumbledore softly from behind them, making them all jump, "That I do have my reasons."
Merlin wondered how long he had been standing there for. He was looking at them all quite seriously and nobody seemed to know what to say, standing guiltily under his gaze.
Dumbledore finally said, "Mr. Potter is quite unharmed. He will be arriving at Grimmauld Place later tomorrow."
With that he descended back down the stairs, leaving everybody else dumbstruck.
AN: Another chapter! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! Also, I've begun planning a little one-shot, prequel sort of thing to the Miss-Adventures of Gwaine. Let me know if you'd be interested in that and I'll see if I can get it written and up anytime soon :)
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