They popped back into reality without warning, all tangled up in arms and legs and golden chain. Malfoy shoved Harry off his chest – "Geroff!" – and Harry was choked half to death on the other end of the chain.
"There has to be a better way of doing this," he said grumpily, rubbing at his neck and glaring at Malfoy. He clambered to his feet and surveyed the Arthurian landscape. Ancient as it was, it put Harry strongly in mind of the Hogwarts grounds. The dodgy little shack sloped off at the side could have been Hagrid's hut, all camped out at the edge of some enchanted woods.
Harry prodded Malfoy with the tip of his trainer and nodded towards the wonky shack. "Reckon that's where he lives?"
"No," answered a quavering voice that did not belong to Malfoy – instead, it belonged to the crooked old man who had shuffled up behind them unseen. "He can't live there. That's my house."
Harry and Malfoy exchanged startled looks.
"Merlin?" Harry tried.
The old man looked over his shoulder with a start. "Oh, you mean me?" he said after a puzzled moment, and then his face broke into a toothless smile. "Yes, I'm Merlin." He placed his wizened hands on his hips and stuck out one bare, bony leg with obvious pride.
Harry was beginning to get the impression that Merlin, quite unlike the Dumbledore-like hero he'd imagined, was a loony old codger.
"Reminds me of Dumbledore," Malfoy muttered from the side of his mouth, and Harry tensed up, ready to defend his idol, but Merlin had already started dancing towards his hut, swinging a basket of assorted leaves and singing, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Perhaps Dumbledore was more like Merlin than Harry had imagined.
"So how do we get him to come with us?" Harry murmured as they followed Merlin across the gently sloping grass to his shack. The most famous wizard in all of magical history stopped outside the battered wooden door and began palming down his robes as if hunting for keys. From a safe distance, Malfoy took out his wand and cast a whispered 'Alohomora', and Merlin screeched as the door popped open. Glaring at the doorframe with much suspicion, Merlin edged in sideways and came out a moment later, cauldron in hand.
As Harry and Malfoy watched, Merlin ran about between basket, hut and cauldron, plucking out bits of vegetation and tossing handfuls into his blackened brass pot. He lit a fire the Muggle way, to Malfoy's great surprise.
Without pausing for a break, Merlin panted his way up to them, swiping his long, dirty beard over his shoulder and out of the way. "Either of you boys have any royal blood in you?" he asked shortly, pushing Malfoy to the side and taking Harry's right bicep in a surprisingly strong grasp.
"Er, no," said Harry apologetically. He stood and waited as Merlin prodded at his muscles, feeling new sympathy for Malfoy and his unwanted groping at the hands of Wendelin the Weird.
Merlin pulled back with a slight frown. "Do you have a sword?"
Harry shook his head slowly.
"Want one?"
"Would I have to pull it from a stone?" Harry asked, suddenly foreseeing the course of Merlin's investigation. As the mystical nutter nodded, Malfoy grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him out of Merlin's grasp.
"Waste of time," he hissed. "Let's leg it, shall we?"
"Jealous?" asked Harry, grinning, and Malfoy released him with a scowl.
"Merlin, sir," Malfoy started in formal tones, his pureblood upbringing clearly preventing him from treating Merlin with anything less than a semblance of respect. "I am afraid that we must be leaving you to your – erm –" he peered out at the dubious substance bubbling away in the little cauldron and paused.
"Soup," Merlin supplied, nodding away with a dignified frown, just as formal as Malfoy but for his bare legs.
"Soup," Malfoy repeated, eyes widening helplessly. "So we'll just be off, then."
Merlin, who had been stroking his beard throughout Malfoy's speech, jerked up with a start as Harry and Malfoy began backing away from the shack. He yelped with pain as he yanked at his own beard, and unravelling his fingers with a grimace, he called out after the boys. "Wait! There is something I must give you, time travellers from the distant future!"
Harry stopped, and put out an arm to stop Malfoy as well. "Could be useful for the project," he said with a shrug, inwardly hoping that Merlin would give them a piece of wisdom and not just another bout of groping.
Merlin loped across the lawn towards them, having ducked inside his hut to collect some unknown quality. He paused before the boys, one hand behind his back.
"If you remember nothing else of me and my life's work," he began in portentous tone, causing Harry to shuffle about guiltily and finger the Chocolate Frog card in his pocket, "I trust you will remember this." With a fond smile, Merlin looked from Malfoy to Harry and back again.
"Be excellent to each other."
"Can we go now?" Malfoy whined, and heaved a sigh of relief when Harry gave him a subtle nod. "Thank Merlin." He jumped as Harry delivered an elbow to his Weasley jumper-covered ribs. "Er, yes. Thank Merlin, Harry."
"Thank you," said Harry, bowing his head in acknowledgement of the barmy geezer, and reached out a hand to take Merlin's – but instead of shaking his hand, Merlin stuffed a bundle of material into his palm and frolicked off down the hill, cackling madly.
"What is it?" Malfoy asked with mild curiosity, and leapt back when Harry unfolded the bundle to reveal a pair of frilly pink knickers. "Merlin's pants!" he said, all huge grey eyes and awed disgust. "I'll never be able to swear again."
With a shudder, Harry stuffed the delicate undergarments into his pocket and took out the Time-Turner with all haste. They hadn't managed to rope Merlin into coming along for their history project, but Harry had a strong feeling that this was for the best. The modern wizarding world simply wasn't ready for a visit from their most celebrated hero.
When they arrived back in the Entrance Hall and narrowly avoided being knocked to the ground by a barrage of hungry first-years, Malfoy turned to Harry and spoke over the noise.
"You know," he said rather tentatively, glancing halfway to Harry's face and then back at the floor. "I think that was the most horrifying thing we faced throughout our time-travelling adventure."
"What about Urg?" Harry asked as they padded slowly up the stairs, away from the flood of students. He'd barely even felt the nausea this last time-travelling trip – but at the thought of the goblin and his infamous stench, his stomach turned.
"He had a sense of humour."
"And Wendelin?"
Malfoy shrugged. "She wasn't so bad." He quailed under Harry's glare. (He was not jealous.) "Not that I liked her or anything."
"What time is it?" Harry growled, put out of sorts by the path of the conversation. "The project's due at five o'clock this afternoon, you know."
Malfoy glanced down at his pocket watch and gasped in alarm. "It's quarter past!" he cried out, and the two boys started running headlong down the corridor towards the History of Magic classroom.
"We need Urg, and Wendelin!" Harry panted, and screeched to a halt when Hermione stepped out into the corridor with a rather smug look on her face.
"Looking for someone?" she said coolly, examining her nails in an entirely uncharacteristic fashion.
"Hermione Granger, I will act as your slave and never call you the 'M' word for as long as we both shall live if you just give us the historical figures and let me get my fortune!" Malfoy cried, flinging himself down at Hermione's feet and causing another ripple of not-jealousy in the bottom of Harry's stomach.
Hermione, who looked quite taken aback, clicked her fingers, somehow causing Ron and Wendelin to appear from around the corner of the corridor.
"She wouldn't let us come out, Harry," Ron explained, all out of breath as he physically held Wendelin from advancing on a cowering Malfoy. "Said she had to teach you a lesson, but I think she's just angry you're trying to cheat–"
"Shut it, Ronald," hissed Hermione, but Harry came forward with an apologetic smile and patted her arm.
"You know I wouldn't do it if there was another way," he said soothingly. "Peeves wrecked all the history books in the library; so you see, we really had no choice."
"Peeves!" Ron gasped, suddenly outraged. "He stole my bottle of–"
"Contagious Ink," Harry and Malfoy finished simultaneously, and exchanged a significant look.
With a cough, Harry shook his head and pointed at Wendelin, who preened in the attention. "We need to get her to Binns, or we'll fail this stupid project! Any idea where the goblin's got to?"
Hermione sniffed. "Yes, the Society for the Prevention of Elvish Welfare mentioned something about a goblin," she said, glaring pointedly at Harry, who shuffled his feet in discomfort and avoided her eyes. "Unfortunately for you, Winky's gone and manacled him to one of the taps in the Prefects' Bathroom."
Harry flung up his arms and swore, carefully avoiding the use of the phrase, 'Merlin's frilly pink knickers'. "We'll just have to go with Wendelin alone and try and convince him we deserve to pass," he said desperately, pulling at Malfoy's sleeve. "Come on, we're already twenty minutes late!"
They barrelled their way into the History of Magic classroom with Wendelin in tow, slamming through the door and sliding to a halt at the foot of Binns' desk.
"Sorry we're late, Professor," Harry wheezed, taking Wendelin's arm and motioning for Malfoy to grab the other. "We were – er – finalising our conclusions for the project. Got caught up in a historical debate. Sorry."
Binns, as ancient and shrivelled and unimpressed as ever, nodded slowly. "And what were they, these conclusions?" As he spoke, his pearly grey eyes widened on closer examination of Wendelin, who was pouting and primping and fussing about between the boys.
Harry threw a panicked glance at Malfoy. "We, er, learnt," he began, thinking quickly, "that history is – is –"
"An amazing and exhilarating study," interrupted Malfoy, releasing Wendelin in favour of delivering a sharp flick to Harry's side. "Really something no young wizarding scholar can do without."
Binns nodded absently, his attention clearly focussed elsewhere. "Good, boys, very good," he murmured as Wendelin approached his desk with a coy eye and a flick of her flame-red hair. "That's all I ever wanted."
Harry and Malfoy watched, open-mouthed, as Wendelin winked at their History of Magic professor, jerking her head towards the door in a most unmistakable – and unthinkable – fashion. Binns coughed, rising from his seat and through his desk, and trailed away after Wendelin like a lost puppy.
"Our marks, Professor?" Harry yelled desperately as Binns floated off through the doorway, and a distinct – though dazed – voice called back.
"You've quite exceeded my expectations, boys."
Harry gave a whoop the likes of which had never before been seen in the History of Magic classroom; Malfoy stood quite still, obviously stunned.
"We did it!" Harry cried, grabbing Malfoy's hands and pulling him into an impromptu jig. As they stumbled about, upsetting desks and chairs and all propriety, Malfoy's face suddenly split into an ear-to-ear grin, and Harry threw his head back and laughed.
"I won't be disinherited," Malfoy said, a touch of awe still clear in his voice. "I'm rich, Potter. Extremely, severely rich."
"Just as a Malfoy should be, I suppose," said Harry with much rolling of the eyes. "And I'll be employed within a month."
"Or at least until they work out you know nothing at all about history," retorted Malfoy, prompting Harry to spin him into the path of Binn's desk. Malfoy stumbled and complained, but clearly accepted this piece of retaliation with good grace.
Having released Malfoy, Harry walked over and joined his old arch nemesis at the desk, leaning back and crossing his arms in companionable silence.
"We did it, you know," he said finally, nudging Malfoy in the shoulder and eliciting a smile. "You and me. We didn't even ruin history – much. I think that really does exceed expectations."
Malfoy nodded slowly. "There's one thing that puzzles me," he said with a brief frown at the chain around Harry's neck. "Who sent us the Time-Turner? And why?"
Harry sat back and thought about this for a moment – then, with an enormous grin, he clicked his fingers. "We did," he said with some pride. "We'll do it right now, in fact – or after we've convinced Winky to give up Urg, and Binns to give up Wendelin, and delivered them back to their own times. Then all we'll have to do is go back in time to yesterday and owl that parcel to ourselves. Simple."
"Simple," Malfoy echoed, clearly unimpressed, "except for the little fact that it's impossible and makes no sense."
Harry raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Says who?"
Malfoy slumped back and shook his head dazedly. "So that's it then? We'll just complete a series of nonsensical tasks and then we'll be done with the whole business?"
"And then we'll just have to avoid Madam Pince for the rest of our lives, and we're home free," Harry said happily, already looping the golden chain around Malfoy's neck. "Now shut up, or I'll set Merlin's knickers on you."
"You would, you pervy prat," muttered Malfoy, but he grinned back at Harry as they spun away through time and space on another excellent adventure.
THE END
A/N: And there ends the tale! I seriously enjoyed writing this one, and I hope it was fun to read. Please REVIEW - then party on, dudes!
x Froody