Thank you to all those people who left lovely reviews and thank you to Conchamp1998 for inspiring me to finsih up the last 1,000 words to this. Seriously it was just sitting on my computer, nearly finished, and out of pure laziness and partly uninspired that it wasn't finished. I don't really have any other excuses.

Other than that, I hope you like part II. If i think part III is going to be too long you may even be lucky enough to get a part IV. Or and epilogue but this is only a mini-series and not a multi-chapter fic. Sorry.

Please leave a review later, they really do help me write at the mo!

When Arthur awoke, it was to find himself lying on grass beside a lake. Cool water lapped gently at the banks as he looked around, trying to get his bearings. How had he managed to get here? The last place he remembered being was a hill leading to the Lake of Avalon, staring at the island in the middle of it and thinking that they had been so close and yet so far from achieving their goal. Except he wasn't quite sure what that goal had been.

The place he was in now was very different. The lake spread out as far as he could see on his right but to his left towered a castle. It was not as impressive as the citadel in Camelot, but for a lone castle with no surrounding village, it seemed to have done pretty well for itself even if it was currently looking a little worse for wear. Smoke drifted up from the roof of one tower and the stonework was crumbling in various places as if whole areas had been smashed in or blasted apart. Only magic could have done that much damage in such a short time Arthur thought as he gingerly got to his feet. His chest hurt, almost as if he had broken his ribs. For a moment that was what he thought he had done, until the fog lifted from his mind.

Not broken ribs, he thought. A sword thrust. I was wounded and there was a piece of sword not even Merlin could get out… We were going to the Lake of Avalon to have the Sidhe remove it. But they had never made it or, if Merlin had somehow miraculously carried him the remaining three miles, he would have been long gone. It had been a losing battle right from the start, Arthur remembered that. He had only had three days and with the delay of Morgana and the loss of the horses, he just hadn't been able to manage it, no matter how determined both he and Merlin had been.

He couldn't imagine the devastation of his closest friend.

But if I did die Arthur thought, clutching at his side and sitting back on the bank again to think things over, how did I get here? And how am I alive again with nothing more to show for it other than bruised ribs? A mystery that surely Merlin would have been able to tell him, if only he was here. I suppose that if I am alive, that probably means so much time has gone by that Merlin must either be really old or dead. Arthur didn't know how long sorcerers lived for, but even the greatest sorcerer in the world would have to die at some point. Even Morgana had aged, even if not by much and that witch, Nimueh, must have aged, most likely slower than his father. But they had still aged and would eventually have died if a sword hadn't finished them off (at least Morgana had. Who knew how Nimueh had met her end?)

Deciding that nothing could be accomplished by sitting on a riverbank and doing nothing, Arthur hauled himself back onto his feet and, checking to make sure that his sword was still attached to his sword-belt, began to make his slow ascent to the castle.

Arthur noticed the stares straight away, even if he couldn't quite believe where they were coming from. The portraits in Camelot had never moved and neither had the suits of armour, although Arthur preferred fighting in chainmail and leather. It was lighter and easier to move in, as well as less stuffy. He only fought in full plated armour on a jousting field which wasn't very often, especially after becoming king. Everyone knew that no self-respecting knight would clank onto a battlefield wearing all of that if he wished to be able to fight and live. Obviously no one told that to the owners of the self-walking armour Arthur thought wryly, trying to take his mind off of the fact that everything was following him.

He would probably never have found anyone if it wasn't for the fact that he accidently stepped on the cat's tail. It yowled at him, trying to claw his shins in revenge, although luckily his boots had been designed to survive battles and horses feet and so this had little effect. What it did do was bring a rather oddly dressed man running to the scene, who stopped at the sight of Arthur. He wondered if he looked that bad.

"What have you done to Mrs Norris?" the man shouted, crouching down to pick up the cat, which was still hissing at him. "And who are you?"

"My name is Arthur Pendragon," Arthur said, hoping that he could find out where he was without causing any more trouble. He didn't think he would be able to fight anybody, the state he was in let alone a sorcerer. "I wish to speak to the lord or lady of this castle." The man stared at him once again, this time with suspicion. He then seemed to decide that whatever was going on would be better discussed with someone else and so, beckoning for Arthur to follow, he set off up the corridor. Arthur followed, trying to gauge where he might be by looking out of the window. It was very green and craggy, so somewhere north, but nowhere Arthur had been before.

The man led him to where a gargoyle stood and said in a sulky manner, "Whiskers." The gargoyle leapt aside to reveal a spiralling stone staircase, which the man hurried up immediately. Surprised and not the least bit wary (after all the only magic that Arthur had witnessed that hadn't been used against him had been on those last few days with Merlin), Arthur followed at a much slower pace. He heard the gargoyle jump back into place behind him. The door at the top of the stairs was already open and he could hear a woman's voice floating out of it.

"Argus, I am well aware that the castle is in need of repairs. Kingsley is sending Ministry people to help next week so that everything will be back to normal for next year," the woman snapped and Arthur caught sight of her: a greying middle-aged woman, reaching the end of her prime and dressed in emerald robes, the likes of which Arthur had only ever seen on Druid Elders and of a much poorer quality. The man was shifting from foot to foot looking uncomfortable.

"I know Professor McGonagall but I found this," Arthur found himself suddenly tugged into the room and scowled at the man, "lurking around the first floor corridors. He claims to be Arthur Pendragon." There was a sneer in the man's face that told Arthur he wasn't believed in the slightest. The woman stared at him for a moment.

"Go and call Kingsley. It could be a trick that the last of the Death Eaters are trying," the woman ordered, her shrewd eyes taking in Arthur's cape, which still had dirt encrusted on the bottom from the battle at Camlann and his armour still splattered in blood. Some of which Arthur knew was probably his own. And yet, the wound is gone, he thought just as the woman said, "Bewitching Muggles, what next!"

"Excuse me!" Arthur said, alarmed. "I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot! I will not be spoken to in such a way." The woman blinked at him in the way cats did when they didn't understand what had just been said to them- that or when they were about to ignore exactly what you had just said to them. Which is why I prefer the hunting dogs rather than the kitchen cats.

"Don't worry; Argus has gone to fetch help. Everything will be alright soon," the woman said soothingly before muttering, "Probably a Confundus charm."

"What are you going on about? What is this place? And where is Merlin?" Arthur didn't know why he asked, but the last question just slipped out. Where was the closest person he could call a brother? Merlin had only ever been absent a few times- and Arthur had always doubted that the so-called tavern trips were truly real- but he never failed to appear with answers- some even more ludicrous than the last. But Arthur could forgive him for that once he explained the real reasons. If he ever could.

"This is Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and I am the Headmistress Professor McGonagall. As to where Merlin is I cannot say. The man disappeared at the end of King Arthur's reign." She paused a moment before continuing slyly, "But surely you know this Your Highness."

Arthur scowled at her sarcasm. It wasn't helping him or her for them to constantly argue- or not in her case- over whether or not he was really who he said he was. He had to know what had become of Camelot and Guinevere. But most of all, something told him the person in most need of his help was Merlin and that his greatest friend was in danger.

"How long has it been since Camelot fell?" This was important. If he knew that then he might know what to look for. And hopefully not a grave.

"Over a thousand years ago." The woman said this in a blunt manner, already returning to her paperwork as Arthur felt as if the ground had suddenly slipped out from under him. Over a thousand years… he was stuck over a thousand years in the future, cut adrift from everyone and everything he knew. Camelot could not have survived all this time, even if the castle still stood without its citizens. And now he was certain that Merlin had to be dead. Not even Nimueh could have survived for a thousand years. He found himself sitting on the ground by the fire when the door opened once more to reveal a man dressed in blue robes. He was holding a thin stick in his right hand and seemed startled to find him on the floor.

"Who is this?" the man asked as Arthur stared blankly at him, not sure how he had gotten to the floor in the first place. There was an empty well in his heart where he had kept all his emotions. The love he felt for Gwen, the friendship he had with his knights, his amused exasperation at Gwaine and the bond he had held with Merlin. At some point there would be grief. At some point he would probably rage and shout and scream for his lost family, but right now there was nothing but a shocked disbelief that this had ever happened. That he was stuck out of time in a world that he had never imagined to exist.

"A Muggle. I think the left over Death Eaters have Confounded him, since he seems to believe that he's King Arthur." The woman had barely looked up from her desk; seemingly too busy scribbling away to someone. The man inclined his head in curiosity for a moment before settling down next to Arthur.

"Can you tell me your name?" he asked gently.

"Arthur… Arthur Pendragon." He paused a moment, not bothering to look up to see pitying disbelief. "I know you won't believe me. You'll try and tell me that I'm bewitched or something." This whole situation reminded him of the many arguments he had had with his father, especially when he had been about to execute Gwen on the suspicion that she had enchanted him to get him to give up the throne. Just what had happened to Dragoon after his mad dash out of Camelot after his father's murder, Arthur didn't know and he doubted he ever would.

"It does sound rather odd," the man agreed, "but I have heard some rather strange stories in my time. Do you have any proof?" For a moment, Arthur would have said no. He had nothing on him that would show that he was a king. No crown, no signet ring, even his armour looked more like that of a common knight since it was yet to be cleaned and polished. But there was something that he had that was his and his alone. He pulled Excalibur from the sheath at his side and held it out. The man seemed surprised, almost awed as he reached out to touch it but something made Arthur curl his fingers over the blade, preventing the man from taking it. "Where did you find this?"

"I pulled it from a stone in the forest of Essetir before taking back my kingdom from Mor… from a sorceress." No need for this man to know that his sister had been the one to take Camelot. Neither did he need to know that Arthur suspected that Merlin had something to do with helping him pull the sword since he had felt how firmly stuck it had been in the stone when he had first attempted to pull it out, nervous and scared, crushed by the weight of his failure and the pressure of what returning would mean. But somehow, Merlin had gotten him to believe again.

He met the man's gaze over the sword, staring into his eyes and found that this man was doing a similar tactic to his own. It was something he had learnt as a boy. The eyes were the doors to the soul; you could hide nothing in them. It had always frustrated Arthur to no end that the only person who could avoid this gaze entirely was Merlin, who seemed equally skilled at the talent, and so it seemed was this man.

"I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic. If I may, I would like to test your story for the truth," the man said after a moment's silence. Arthur, used to having to bury grief, pushed his feelings about Camelot away and nodded.

"If that is what you wish to be done to ensure you know that what I speak is the truth." He stood, ignoring the offer of a hand, sliding Excalibur back into its place at his side. Kingsley turned to the woman at the desk, who was staring at them over the top of her glasses inquisitively.

"Minerva, you don't happen to have any veritaserum about do you? I did not bring any of my own." The woman placed her quill down on the desk and frowned.

"Not that I know of. There may be some left in storage in Severus' old rooms…" she trailed off a moment, her gaze going to a small portrait of a hooked nose man in the corner, the only painting in the room that didn't move. Kingsley followed her gaze and nodded, gesturing for Arthur to follow him out of the room. Arthur stared at the picture a moment longer, looking at the sallow skin and deep dark eyes and wondered why the man reminded him of Mordred in his grief over Cara, before he turned and followed the man out of the room.

Harry was at the Burrow when it happened. He and Ginny had been sitting on the grass outside, broomsticks beside them after a good game of Quidditch with the rest of the Weasley's, when Hermione came rushing out of the house, her face white in shock. She was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands which was sporting a picture of what Harry could only say looked like a black and white explosion.

"Harry…" Hermione was gasping for breath, her face pale. "Look at this." She thrust the paper into his hands and Harry stared at the headline.

CARNAGE AT GRINGOTTS AS DRAGONS ESCAPE

"Oh Merlin," Ginny gasped. "What now?" They had known that there was trouble in Diagon Alley after the news that the dragon he, Ron and Hermione had freed had continued its attack on Gringotts, no matter how many dragon tamers they sent. Charlie had been in and out of the house for the past few weeks but even he was stumped as to how the dragon was evading them and yet still able to aim it attacks for the wizarding bank. Harry shook his head as he began to read through the article.

After the last three weeks of continual attacks by the first escaped dragon, it has now been revealed that no less that three more dragons have escaped from the bank last night. The release came after a crushing explosion caused within the bank itself, although no goblin has yet to identify exactly where the blast came from.

"The only information we are able to give at this point is that they would have needed magical help," a goblin stressed. "All dragons within our keep are secured and could not escape on their own. The dragon that was released two months ago was aided by three vigilantes and perhaps you could try asking them if they helped to release these."

It is unknown who these three are and the Ministry refuses to give out information regarding what was stolen. We are reassured however, that two of the three escaped last night are very young, and could not hope to fend for themselves. Ministry workers have claimed that they will be rounded up within the week and the dragons dealt with accordingly.

"I don't like that sound of this. Who caused the explosion to release them?" Harry asked, noting that the paper had rather obviously left their names out of the article. It was clear that they were sore over the fact that Kingsley refused to give out details as to why Ron, Harry and Hermione had been forced to enter the bank and steal the sword of Gryffindor.

"No one knows. Nobody died but there were some injured goblins," Hermione said as Ron appeared behind her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and joined Harry on the grass.

"Mum's just finished flooing Charlie. Apparently no one knows what happened last night but some witch reported seeing the dragons flying off with a captive." He frowned then, before carrying on, "Mind you, this witch had just left the Leaky Cauldron and all she saw through a sherry haze was the four dragons flying off. The Ministry don't believe her but they also say they don't believe the goblins either."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Bill's been working with them and he and Charlie agree that there's something different about these dragons. Charlie's had a good look at the one we released and he said that it's no breed of dragon he's ever seen before. The three that escaped last night are the same and Bill was telling mum this morning that the goblins are looking shifty." Ron fell quiet for moment, his face troubled. "But more than that, he says they're scared. And he doesn't think it's about the dragons."

"If they've been breeding new dragons, they're probably scared of being punished. I mean look at Hagrid and the Blast Ended Skrewts," Harry pointed out but Ron shook his head.

"They're not crossbreeds. If that was the case, they wouldn't be able to lay eggs and the goblins have been explaining that the three that escaped were hatched from eggs taken from the dragon we released." Hermione gasped in horror.

"No wonder the dragon kept attacking Gringotts! She was trying to get her babies back!" Harry frowned. He agreed with Hermione but something just didn't seem right about the whole affair. Why would Gringotts have a breed of dragon no one had ever seen before? And what exactly were they trying to hide?

"It doesn't make sense. Why go to the trouble of keeping a breed of dragon that no one has heard before with the risk that one of them will attack you if you hurt their babies? And it isn't like they were treating her any better than an animal in the first place," Harry said, noticing that Ron seemed equally troubled by this idea.

"I don't know. But until Charlie can tell us what is going on I don't think we'll ever know. Diagon Alley has been shut until they have the situation under control."

Kingsley didn't know what to make of the young man before him. He could only have been in his late twenties, early thirties, clearly a Muggle of some kind. He was dressed like one who had been to a renaissance fare, in blood splattered armour and a red cape that was filthy. However, the sword emanated enough magic that he was sure that, gotten close enough, even Filch would have been able to sense. The blood too looked real, and he had seen enough blood to know that you could never replicate it, only substitute it and he didn't seem the kind to kill off animals for the sake of stealing their blood.

He followed quietly behind him, glancing around at the paintings and statues as if wary that they might jump out and hurt him at any moment. Kingsley didn't want to point out that they wouldn't unless ordered to do so since he didn't know whether or not the man was violent and there was still the possibility that this was King Arthur and they would be making a great mistake in annoying him. Even so, it was more likely that the man had simply been Confounded and left for them to find by the Death Eaters. Give it another couple of days and they would probably send them some Knights of the Round Table and a Queen Guinevere.

"This is it," Kingsley said as they reached the old Potions Master's office. Inside was the usual assortment of pickled animal and magical specimens, all of which he was sure had been placed in here as a deterrent for the students to ever want detention. After all, Severus was never cruel, just extremely unsociable to the point that he had almost isolated himself from his peers. And with the number of secrets the man kept, it wasn't surprising. "Stay here," he ordered as he left to the store cupboard next door. Inside was the veritaserum that he had been looking for, although there was only enough left for a single interrogation. We'll just have to make this last he thought. It would soon be clear whether or not he was telling the truths of someone else.

He returned to the office and poured the remnants of the potion into a cup of water which he handed to the man. The man looked at the cup with great suspicion, but Kingsley watched in surprise as he screwed up his face and gulped the whole lot down in one. He then made a face.

"Gah, tastes like Gaius' potions," the man stated looking disgusted. Clearly whatever this Gaius had given him had been just as foul tasting. Kingsley simply took the cup back and gestured for him to sit as he settled himself into Severus' old chair on the other side of the desk.

"What is your name?" Kingsley asked.

"Arthur Pendragon," the man answered at once.

"Your parents' names?"

"Uther Pendragon and Ygraine."

"Any siblings?" Here the man paused, not as if he were thinking about it, but as if he was uncomfortable with the information he would be forced to give.

"A half- sister, Morgana." Kingsley nodded, expecting that.

"Your tutor?"

"Geoffrey." Kingsley blinked, surprised. As anyone would have expected, the correct answer to him would have been Merlin, but instead the man had given a different name. And yet, he was forced to tell the truth… perhaps a sign of the Confundus charm? Perhaps the person to have cast it had gotten a detail wrong and forgotten to correct themselves.

"And what did Geoffrey do other than as your tutor?"

"He was my father's Keeper of the Books. He kept the library in order and documented the censuses and trade through Camelot. He did the same for me when I came to the throne." Kingsley paused, curious. There was still no hesitation, no sign that this was information he was unsure about. The only sign so far had been answers that were different to the history that Kingsley knew. It was probably time to be a little more specific.

"And what was Merlin's job in the castle?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, looking slightly amused for some reason.

"Merlin? Why do you want to know about Merlin?" Kingsley blinked at the sudden change in tone. Up until now, Arthur had been serious but co-operative. Now, however, he seemed to have found something particularly funny in Kingsley's questions. "He was my manservant."

Kingsley couldn't help it. His mouth fell open at that statement. How could this man just brush off a question about the most powerful wizard in the world like he hadn't been anything special? Clearly he had to be Confounded. It was the only explanation for something like this. Arthur seemed slightly confused by Kingsley's reaction, but carried on looking at him with that same look of amusement, caught somewhere between laughing at Kingsley and nonplussed at his reaction.

"Is there some wrong?" he asked. "You wanted to know what Merlin did and I told you. He was my manservant and he was the worst manservant I ever had. He was late, he was lazy and he seemed to spend most of his time in the tavern or with Gaius. How I managed to get anything done I do not know."

Kingsley was about to answer that there was no way that Merlin could ever have been a manservant, let alone useless and that this man had to be Confounded, they were interrupted by McGonagall.

"Kingsley, Charlie Weasley is here. He wants to speak to this man," she said. Kingsley frowned.

"I haven't finished. Why does he want to speak to him specifically?"

"He thinks that his appearance and the release of the dragons from Gringotts might be connected," she said, sounding disapproving. "Apparently, one of your Ministry members stated that you had come here at my request of an intruder." Kingsley thought for a moment before sighing.

"It wouldn't hurt. He's still under the influence of the veritaserum," he said, rising from the table and heading around the table. Glancing quickly at the man he gestured for McGonagall to leave the office as she sent a patronus off to fetch Charlie. "I don't know what to think of him. Some of his answers are ludicrous but others are much more convincing."

"So a botched job of a Confundus Charm? Probably Mundungus Fletcher then, thinking it's funny," McGonagall sniffed but Kingsley shook his head.

"It is more complicated than that. This man… he doesn't display the normal signs of someone under a Confundus charm. He isn't confused or disorientated and neither are his answers hesitant or contradictory. They are simply… odd." McGonagall looked at him quizzically, as if wondering what on earth he meant so he elaborated. "He believes that Merlin was his manservant." He watched as her face went through the same shock he had felt a moment earlier. Before she could reply Charlie arrived.

"Hi!" he said and then looked at them curiously. "What are you doing out here? Is he really that strange?"

"A little bit," Kingsley said. "Come on, he's inside." Charlie shrugged and they entered the room. Arthur was still there, although he seemed to have gotten bored and was playing with a quill Severus must have left on the desk. He glanced up the moment that they walked in, giving Charlie a confused look.

"Who are you?" he asked, rather rudely. Charlie didn't seem to mind and dropped into the seat that Kingsley had just vacated.

"I'm Charlie Weasley. I was wondering what it was that you knew about dragons…"

Bill Weasley stood in the centre of the cave and whistled. He and Corbin Gudgeon had been investigating exactly how the dragons had been able to escape when Corbin had pointed out this opening to him. Unlike the other vaults within Gringotts, this one hadn't been sealed off in any way by a door, but by the look of the wall something had been kept in here. Something big and powerful and strong enough to collapse an entire wall that had made the opening visible. For all they knew, the goblins could have been hiding this for years without telling the wizards. They could have been standing on something potentially lethal for decades and Bill wouldn't put it past the goblins to say that they had known that something on this scale would occur. For now though, he settled with looking around for clues as to how this was linked to the dragons.

The floor was filthy and all he could see, other than a constant steady drip off of a stalactite at the far end of the cave was some kind of littered egg shell and chains. The eggshell must have come from the new-born he thought. I'll wait for Charlie to get back and show them to him. He should be able to identify the type of dragon off of that. Now about these chains… He was surprised and disturbed to see that they were actually rather thin and rusty. That suggested that they had been there for a very long time, not something he wanted to think about. But they were not long enough to have contained any kind of beast and he found himself thinking back to the drunken witch's statement.

"I swear to you," the woman had slurred, "there was a man riding on that dragon's back! Call it the alcohol but I didn't imagine it, by Merlin's false teeth!" Perhaps they shouldn't have discredited her story after all.

"What do you think about those Bill?" Corbin asked as he stepped forward to stand by Bill. He sighed and stepped towards the chains, glancing around.

"I'm not sure. Whatever they held, I'm beginning to think that it had nothing to do with the dragons. They're not big enough." Carefully he picked the chains up from the ground, studying them. Someone had undone them but someone else had clearly despised them enough to attempt to destroy them. The cuffs were bent and twisted, some of the links broken. There were enough of them left to see that runes had been etched into the metal, but what they spelled out he wasn't sure. Ancient Runes had never been his thing.

"Hey Corbin, can you read this?" he asked, handing one of the cuffs to Gudgeon. His partner and friend carefully took the cuff, studied it a moment and frowned.

"It's some kind of suppressant spell. I've only ever see them on the very early bindings for the witch burnings in the medieval era. They would prevent a witch or wizard from accessing their magic, pretty much making it impossible for them to escape. From what I've read, I know that it used to be a popular method for those following in the footsteps of Uther Pendragon and many Druids met their ends cuffed in these." He paused, fingering a certain rune. "But these… these were designed to hold something a heck of a lot stronger than a Druid."

"What's more powerful than a Druid?" Bill asked. His History of Magic was rusty, not that he had known much about it before considering he had barely been able to stay awake during Professor Binn's lessons, but he was pretty sure that the Druids were stressed as some of the very first wizards to start using wands, suggesting that they had once been powerful enough to use magic without them. Corbin shrugged, looking disturbed.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, its humanoid and it's been living down here with those dragons. I'd cast a dating charm on it to find out how old they are but I was rubbish at Charms in Hogwarts. Curse breaking's more my thing." He handed the cuff back as the rattle of an approaching cart was heard in the distance. "You try."

Shrugging, Bill took the cuff back and inspected it once again. He wondered what could have driven the people of the medieval era to think of something as drastic as this. What manner of creature made them lock it up beneath the most secure vaults of all time surrounded by dragons and dragon eggs. He raised his wand and was about to cast the charm when he was distracted by the arrival of Charlie and his unexpected guest. The young man was obviously uncomfortable (and dressed rather oddly but Bill wasn't one to judge) but he was scrutinising his surroundings as closely as any of his colleagues would have.

"Hey Charlie," he said as his brother walked the small incline towards him, avoiding the remains of the dragon egg as he did so. "Who's your friend?"

"We don't really know. He claims to be King Arthur, but he just appeared at Hogwarts this morning," Charlie said, watching the young man closely as he began to move around, crouching over the eggshell bits. He picked up a piece, turning it over in his hand and frowning. "I brought him here because I thought it was a bit strange, someone appearing almost at the same time as a breakout in Gringotts." Bill nodded, remembering how he had thought at first that the news of something breaking out of Gringotts was weird, let alone having this man turn up out of the blue in the middle of Hogwarts only a day or so after the event. He watched as the man studied the piece of eggshell for a moment longer before approaching him.

"Hi," he said as the man looked up. "Bill Weasley. We were wondering if you knew anything about what might have happened here?" He phrased the end to sound like a question so as not to offend the man as he eyed the outstretched hand for a moment before taking it. He then pulled himself to his feet and held up the eggshell.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked. There was something in his eyes, something that said he had a fair idea, but only that he wanted confirmation. Charlie was instantly by his side, taking the piece and studying it for a moment before shrugging.

"It's a piece of dragon eggshell, although for what kind of dragon I'm not sure. It's not in the typical shape for a dragon egg, which backs up the theory that the baby we saw yesterday was newly hatched." He paused and glanced at the eggshell once more. "Never seen anything like it if I'm honest."

"I have," the man said quietly. "Once. But the egg was destroyed, or so I was told and in theory it was the last ever dragon egg." He mulled that over a moment and Bill got the distinct feeling that he was leaving something out. He then tossed the piece of eggshell over his shoulder, disregarding Charlie's noise of protest as the piece shattered into a million tiny other pieces, and strode over to the cuffs. "You had a sorcerer tied up here too." Bill blinked at that.

"How do you know?" he asked, joining him back at the rusting cuffs. The man knelt, picking up one and showing it to him.

"The runes. My father had a set, created specifically for containing sorcerers in the dungeons when I was a child. He only showed them to me whenever they were being put on but they prevented the wearer from accessing and using magic. My guess is that your prisoner was either a powerful sorcerer or a Dragonlord." Charlie snorted behind them and the man turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, it's just, Dragonlords are a legend. Extinct for hundreds of years."

"I know. I met the last one and he died eight years before me." He paused for a moment, brow furrowed. "Although I recall seeing another in the battle at Camlann…" he trailed off, eyes widening a moment and dropped the cuff on the floor, rising from his crouch and turning to the resident goblin down with them. It was looking a little shifty and suddenly distinctly uncomfortable with the attention it was receiving- more of a glare really- from the man.

"The sorcerer you had locked up here. What did he look like?" the man demanded, eyes hard. The goblin shifted, eyes darting from side to side.

"I don't know what you mean," it said, not looking at them. An uneasy feeling crept up on Bill as he watched the man take an aggressive step forward.

"Do not lie to me. I know the signs of imprisonment when I see them. Now describe him!" The goblin jumped and for the first time actually looked afraid, especially when the man drew the sword at his side which glinted dangerously in the dim light.

"I-I don't know who he was!" it squeaked as the man approached, sword hanging ready in one hand. "We were never told! Our ancestors may have known but they never passed it down. He was young, though, always young. A-And tall with black hair and big ears." The man looked angrier than ever. "A-And gold eyes, that's all I know I swear!" The man paused before turning on his heel and striding away, stomping through the eggshell as he went. Bill paused a moment before rounding on the goblin himself.

"Why didn't you tell us there was someone down here?" he snapped, raising his wand.

"We were sworn to secrecy by the Founders. None of them ever came again after making the cave." The goblin paused, then tilted its head a little. "None other than Slytherin." For a moment, Bill stood still. Then he and Corbin glanced at each other before racing out of the cave after their only suspect, each hoping they were wrong.

Arthur was fuming. How could they?! These were people who swore by Merlin's name and insisted on acting like he was some kind of god! And yet, after being in that cave and listening to that creature talk about his friend in such a way as to make even human life sound worthless made Arthur want to punch something. Hard.

Fortunately for the people around him, something distracted him. In fact, it was his name.

For a moment, he thought it was someone ahead of him, Kingsley or one of the other people in the entourage that had appeared outside the 'bank' as it had been called. He hadn't seen a dragon egg since the ill-fated trip after the thief to recover not only the dragon egg but also the stolen triskellion. But as he approached the entrance to the hall, he realised that they were all out of sight and far away from him. In fact, they were concentrating on something else, although all he caught as he passed were the words 'wards' and 'breaking up'. Clearly, they had bigger issues than a lost king.

Arthur… There was definitely someone calling his name and now that he thought about it, they sounded familiar. He continued forwards, straight out of the doors of the bank and into the winding, dizzying insanity that was the magical street he had been taken to. There were still people milling about, but he couldn't see anyone who might be calling his name, or even paying any attention to him.

Arthur! Again, his name was called and he set off. It seemed louder, more insistent, especially as, halfway down the street the sky above seemed to flicker and he was certain it had nothing to do with the weather. The people around him began to gather in groups, worried expressions on their faces and muttering amongst themselves. He followed the voice until he reached the archway leading into the bar and, in a moment of instinct, placed Excalibur against it to get the wall to turn into the archway so he could leave the street.

Once on the other side of the pub, in the even crazier world that was the future, the flicker seemed to come again. People surrounding him began to frown and point at the pub behind him and he turned, wondering what the problem was. It didn't look any different than it had before. No one was dead and the door was a door and not something weird, like a trick wall or something. Shrugging he turned and stared across the road at the person opposite.

Hello again Arthur… He grinned, stepping away from the alarmed families as Ministry wizards appeared out of nowhere in an attempt to fix the now non-existent wards and crossed the road. The man next to him smirked and ran a finger down the spine of the baby dragon perched like a cat over his shoulders.

"Took you long enough."