A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! Special shout out to AuroraKnight who was the 100th reviewer! :)

Heads up, more references to events and characters in the prequel in this chapter.

An Old Diary

Walking back into Grimmauld Place after the disastrous meeting at Westminster was possibly the worst feeling of the day for Harry. The looks on everyone's faces as they entered the drawing room was enough to make Harry a little afraid. The seriousness of the situation was really beginning to hit him.

"You saw the whole thing?" Kingsley asked, rather unnecessarily, as the television was still flickering in the corner, displaying yet more pictures of violence.

"We can't give up," said Mr Weasley immediately. "Those people were biased, but you saw there were at least some people there who were reasonable. We must talk to them, get them on our side."

"Even if we could, it would mean civil war for the Muggles," said Watkins. "It would mean conflict between the Government and the ones who support us. There can be no peaceful situation to this any longer."

"There must be a way," said Merlin, and he began pacing up the room. "There always is."

"We cannot force them to listen to us, at least not without using magic," said Kingsley. "And that would only turn them further against us. The government will not oppose those who would seek to harm us. We're enemies of state. We have no rights in their eyes."

"We're not giving up," said Merlin fiercely. "Somebody at least must be willing to talk."

"And where do you suggest we find them?" Kingsley asked, his voice raised. "Where?"

"The Opposition MPs, the former government, anybody!" answered Merlin, gesticulating wildly. "Anybody in a position of authority, someone who the Muggle population will listen to!"

"They're too afraid," said Kingsley. "They'll accuse us of using magic to influence them, to threaten them, they won't trust us."

"Then we need to give them reason to!" said Merlin. "Show them the good that magic can do! I did it in Camelot. There was a massive plague, and I used magic to heal them, and many who had previously been against us were converted."

"This is not the same!" shouted Kingsley. "Camelot was thirteen hundred years ago. The world has changed, why can you not see that? Muggles are different now, their very views on the world have changed. Until last week, these people did not even believe in magic. You had one city of thousands to convince, I have a country of millions, a planet of billions to convince. How can you hope to recreate what you did then?"

Merlin stared at Kingsley, mixed anger and despair on his face.

"You were never properly willing to attempt this," said Merlin. "You never believed it was possible. That's part of the problem."

"Are you suggesting I haven't been trying?" Kingsley asked in outrage. "I know what is at stake, Merlin. At this rate it's only a matter of time before people start dying in this country. I wanted to believe in peace, I truly did, but it is not possible. Not now. War is here whether we want it or not. The problem you have is that you think you can impose outdated values on the modern day without issue. You are living in the past. If you cannot recognise this, then perhaps you are not as wise as we all thought you were."

Merlin flinched a little as the whole room gasped. He cast his eyes downward.

"I have never claimed to be wise," he said, controlling his voice. "All I am trying to do is resolve this situation as best I can. I've seen it done."

"There is a reason Camelot has become so legendary," said Kingsley, his voice softening a little. "And it is because what happened there was truly exceptional. Perhaps it cannot be recreated."

"I cannot believe that," said Merlin, and turned away.

"Stop this arguing right now," said Mrs Weasley, standing between the two of them, glaring. "It isn't going to help anything. We won't get anywhere if you're too busy fighting each other."

"Exactly," said Tonks. "We need to do something now. The wizarding population is in as much turmoil as the Muggle one. We need to reassure them as best we can, make sure they're safe before we attempt to contact the Muggles again. The Ministry is flooded with people. Fights are breaking out everywhere between Pure-Blood extremists and others. Everyone is afraid, and some people are on the verge of making some very stupid decisions."

"Then I should get to the Ministry," said Kingsley, sighing. "Though what I'm going to tell them …"

Harry felt a flicker of fear as he saw how hopeless Kingsley looked; even at the height of the war with Voldemort, he had never looked like that.

At that moment, there was a loud 'crack' from downstairs and a sound of a yell and a scuffle. Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Harry and the others wheeled around to face the door, many drawing their wands. The door burst open, and a heavy-set man with numerous scars on his face wearing Auror robes barged in, dragging someone by the scruff of the neck. He nodded to Kingsley and roughly shook the man until he was facing the room. Harry immediately recognised him from the papers as being Cicero Verax.

"You!" cried Tonks fiercely, her wand spitting sparks.

"I found him skulking around the Ministry trying to start a coup, Minister," growled the Auror. "Slippery little rat tried to scarper when he saw me. What do you want me to do with him? I know of a nice little cell in Azkaban he could rot away in."

"Not just yet, Williams," said Kingsley, though he didn't look as though he objected to the idea. "I want to question him first."

Williams nodded, and roughly forced Verax into a chair, standing beside him, his wand as his throat. Verax glared at him briefly, before turning his gaze on the rest of the room, and Harry got his first proper look at him. He didn't look half so smug and well-groomed as he did in his photographs; his robes were askew, his hair dishevelled and his face rather pink with exertion. But his eyes still shone, and he moved them over every occupant, lingering on both Harry and Merlin almost greedily. Harry felt a chill move up his spine as those dark eyes fixed upon his own. Verax almost smiled.

"I don't see what you've got to smile about, mate," said Bill. "You've been caught, and there's nobody in this room that wouldn't like to turn you into a slimy toad."

"Ah, but my task is near accomplished," said Verax, and Harry felt shivers as he heard his voice; silky smooth and carefully pitched. "Why should I not smile?"

"Your task?" asked Kingsley, his voice shaking with barely suppressed anger. "Your task was to start an international war?"

"Indeed," said Verax, still smiling.

"Why?" demanded Tonks, scowling at the man. "Do you want all this death to keep happening?" she pointed to the television.

"Of course I don't wish it; they are merely causalities of war," said Verax dismissively. "But all of that will soon end."

"And how?" Merlin asked, and Verax immediately grinned.

"You, of course," he said, face shining. "Now is your opportunity."

"What opportunity?" asked Merlin. "I have already tried to reason with the Muggles, they will not listen. What did you seriously hope to accomplish? Making Rogers Prime Minister? Did you seriously expect him to negotiate?"

"Of course not," said Verax, still grinning. "He's an ignorant Muggle with no tolerance or respect whatsoever. That was exactly my point."

"You mean you deliberately ensured that there could be no peace process?" Charlie asked, bewildered. "Why?"

"I wanted the Muggles to be in chaos," said Verax, still staring greedily at Merlin. "I wanted them to panic, to descend into mayhem. It would make it so much easier."

"Make what easier?" Kingsley asked.

Verax laughed. "Why, taking control of course!"

Harry stared at the man, unable to believe his ears.

"Taking control?" Merlin repeated faintly.

"Naturally," said Verax, still laughing. "The time is ripe, isn't it?"

"You want to control Muggles," said Kingsley. "You want to rule them by fear, kill and hurt them the way the Death Eaters did. All of what you said was a lie. You hate Muggles."

"Far from it," said Verax. "I do not want Muggles killed, what use would that be?"

"Then what do you want?" asked George, sounding disgusted.

"I want wizards and Muggles to live side-by-side as in times of old," he said. "Wizards no longer hiding away like frightened mice. I wanted Merlin to take control as he has done before. With Merlin at our head, what Muggle would dare stand against any of us? There could be peace. There could be no fear or persecution for our people. The Muggles would fear and respect us the way they used to. And we could finally live up to our full potential instead of living like second class citizens in our own country."

Everyone stared, appalled. Verax was still grinning with an almost maniacal fervour.

"You want me to take control?" Merlin said. "Force the Muggles into subservience."

"Like the good old days," nodded Verax. "In Camelot, when you were its leader, and the Muggles under your dominion. There was peace then. That is what I want."

Merlin was silent for the longest time, staring at the man before him

"You never wanted peace, did you, not real peace," said Merlin, a note of hurt in his tone. "You never wanted harmony. You always wanted to control Muggles, rule them by fear. That isn't peace, that is intimidation, it is suppression. Turning the tables of Muggles will never work."

"It did before," said Verax. "In Camelot. Camelot was the only time in history where both Muggles and wizards lived together. You managed it then. The Wizards' Council believed in this and carried on your vision. They knew the truth about what you did back then, and your precious Ministry of Magic chose to forget. You must do it again. Relive the glory of Camelot."

"You're insane," said Merlin, shaking his head. "You have no idea what the Wizards' Council were like, what Camelot was like. What you've heard is lies. The Wizards' Council claimed I ruled Muggles by fear to justify their own bigotry. That was never the case."

"Yes it was," said Verax, now looking quite mad. "I've read the accounts of the Council. They ruled in your name after Camelot fell. Their policy was always to rule Muggles, and they used you as their example."

"They were wrong," hissed Merlin. "They are nothing like the Council I established in Camelot. I spent centuries working against the Council and trying to fix the damage they'd done. You're deluded, Verax."

Verax's maniacal grin turned to confusion and anger now. "No!" he yelled. "It is the truth! I know it!" he scowled at Merlin. "You've always wanted Muggles and wizards to reintegrate and end the Long Separation. You were always against the Statute of Secrecy.

"That doesn't mean I wanted to rule the Muggles by fear."

"It's been your dream for hundreds of years," said Verax, frowning. "Why are you shying away from it now? You know how they treated us in the past, and it was all because we were too afraid to stand up and do something about it. Back then you wanted the perfect opportunity to once again unite our two peoples. Hasn't that opportunity arrived?"

"How do you know what I wanted back then?" Merlin asked, anger returning to his features. "How dare you presume that you know me!"

They continued glaring at each other, even as Harry struggled to remember the Wizards' Council from History of Magic. He knew they'd supposedly been a continuation of Merlin's own personal council in Camelot, but Merlin had told him how they'd changed and twisted his beliefs until they bore no resemblance to what had come before. Despite being the official government of the country, they had cared little for the general population, and let witches and wizards be executed without lifting a finger to help. They were eventually replaced by the Ministry of Magic who tried to do more to protect its citizens and eventually signed the Statute.

Verax seemed to calm slightly, and slowly reached his hand into his robe pocket. The Auror immediately pushed his wand closer, but Verax just scowled, and pulled out a small well-worn notebook. He flipped it open before looking back up at Merlin.

"I know a lot about your past," said Verax. "I've known the history of the mysterious Emrys for a long time. When you revealed yourself to everybody last year I finally had the confirmation I had been searching for."

Merlin flinched a little. "What do you mean you know my history?"

"Do you think you've managed to spend thirteen centuries completely invisible?" scoffed Verax. "You're mentioned plenty of times, if one only knows where to look. Not in official records perhaps, oh no, you've been too clever about that. But unofficially …" Verax grinned and looked down at his notes. "You've had quite the impact on people's lives. Diaries of Muggles and wizards alike mention a mysterious man named Emrys who saved them from the flames centuries ago, who helped them escape and build new lives before vanishing once more. Muggle Rights reformers of the Ministry wrote in unofficial letters to their friends of how a young boy at Hogwarts named 'Emrys' influenced them into starting their quests to end discrimination; a boy who always seemed to vanish several years after leaving the school, never to be seen again. Oh, it hasn't been easy, you cover your tracks well. But there are multitudes of unpublished material lying around old country manors, lurking in ancient archives, locked in boxes in attics, under people's beds … you're everywhere, Merlin. And every single one of those accounts mentions your distaste for the International Statute of Secrecy, your wish to see it stamped out of existence. There are plenty of mentions of you killing great numbers of Muggles in order to protect wizards. Why would you have done that if you thought Muggles deserved equality? You controlled those Muggles to ensure peace."

"I never-" began Merlin, before stopping himself. He looked troubled, and Harry felt a chill go through him at the thought of Merlin killing so many Muggles. He often forgot just how accustomed Merlin was to killing others.

Merlin took a deep breath. "I only ever did what was needed," he said, his voice steady. "I never enjoyed it."

"I am not suggesting you did," said Verax. "I do not enjoy this either. But it is necessary. We must strike out at the Muggles when they are weak and reassert our authority. You've done it before-"

"I have never taken control of Muggles," said Merlin, his voice getting louder. "I would never-"

"You did once," insisted Verax. "What about during the founding years of Hogwarts? You helped the Founders control the Muggles of surrounding villages with Confundus Charms; you attacked and killed Muggles who were threatening wizard refugees. You did that without qualm. You often spoke of your wish to end the hatred between wizards and witches. That what why you wanted to help at the school: you wanted to influence the Founders and create a new generation of wizards that would aspire for peace. You encouraged them to fight back against the Muggles-"

"To protect themselves, not control them-"

"You met with the Wizards' Council regularly with Slytherin," Verax continued loudly, ignoring Merlin and ploughing on with his notes. "What were you doing if not endorsing their work?"

Merlin scoffed and faced away from Verax, shaking his head.

"And how do you possibly know what I did back then? The Wizards' Council records were wiped. I did it myself."

"I have my sources, Merlin," said Verax, tapping his notebook. "A diary, written a thousand years ago by one of my ancestors, which I only recently managed to translate. Perhaps you knew him? His name was Gerret Whitethorn."

Merlin stiffened, and turned slowly to face Verax, a new interest on his face.

"He was your ancestor?" said Merlin, looking at him more closely. "I would never have guessed. He was a much more pleasant person than you."

Verax scowled. "Perhaps not so pleasant when you hear the things he's written about you."

"Hold on, who's Gerret Whitethorn?" asked Charlie. "How did you know him, Merlin?"

"He was Hogwart's first ever Headmaster," said Hermione immediately. She was frowning. "All the history books say he was a good man who worked with Gryffindor against Muggle persecution. What bad things could he possibly have written?"

"He recorded his entire time at Hogwarts," said Verax, not even casting her a passing glance. "All his dealings with the Founders and Merlin. He had some very interesting things to say."

Merlin seemed almost to laugh. "And what did he say?" he asked. "I can't think of anything he'd have against me."

"You'd be surprised," said Verax. "He's always talking about your secret meetings with the Wizards' Council, and the School Governors who were almost solely under their influence. Apparently, you and Slytherin were constantly running back and forward between them."

"The Wizards' Council were scum," said Merlin. "They didn't embody anything of what I represented. Salazar and I were trying to stop them interfering with the school. Whitethorn knew that."

"Apparently not," said Verax, and he held up another older and more battered book from his pocket. He opened the book and cleared his throat. "This morning, Lord Salazar and Master Emrys departed the castle once more, bound for London. From what I gather, they intend to meet with the Wizards' Council. Such departures make me uneasy. The Founders proclaim to detest the Wizards' Council and wish nothing to do with it, yet these meetings continue. They have always claimed that the school must be entirely separate from government, but acquiesced to the presence of the Governors when under pressure, and now I fear they are permitting the school to be influenced from without. Lord Salazar holds great sway with the Council, and his ongoing distrust of the Muggle-Born students unsettles me. I fear Lord Salazar is becoming allied with them, and endorsing their policy of exerting control over Muggles.

"Emrys too worries me. He speaks such rhetoric of training the children to be powerful. He's adamant that they learn all about Muggles. Whilst Lady Helga and the others seem to want them to learn how to blend in with Muggle and remain safe and hidden, Emrys wants the children not to be afraid of them, to not have to hide from them. He has spoken of his own hated past of having to hide in secret from Muggles, and does not wish the same for the students. I fear he is encouraging them to be open about their magic, and some students may take this to mean they must fight Muggles with their magic rather than hide from them in safety, that this is the only way to be truly accepted.

His influence with the Founders worries me. Although he argues with Lord Salazar about his distrust of Muggle-Borns, he still seems willing to work with him with regards to the Council, and is always present in their meetings. He attends Board meetings as well, and spends many hours holed away with the Founders. I do not understand him. He is not a teacher, he is not a member of staff, and from what the local villagers tell me, he only arrived at the school less than a year before it opened. Yet, they trust him as though they had known him all their lives. He is not a noble like them, though he is well versed in all academia, and is exceptionally discerning. What right has he to hold such influence over them? What qualifies him?

He is consulted over everything; he is a Founder in all but name. I admit, I do not always trust him. There is something so secretive about him; he does not speak much of himself or his past life. He always refuses to speak of the real reason he is at the castle, and insists he is a mere friend. I've heard tell he is teaching them something, though I do not know what. I am not sure the Founders are wise to trust him so implicitly. He has openly voiced his opposition to the secret nature of our society, and I fear he has encouraged the Founders teach the children that we shall one day expose ourselves to the Muggles who fear us. Such an action can only mean chaos, and I wish such a day will never occur. We shall never be at peace with Muggles."

Verax looked smugly up at Merlin then, who was standing with a passive expression on his face. He raised an eyebrow.

"Wow," he said. "And I thought Whitethorn liked me."

"Why else does he write this way unless there is truth in it?" said Verax, sounding as though he had won the argument. "You and Slytherin were working with the Council for a way to control the Muggles. Like you've always wanted."

"Is this your only evidence?" laughed Merlin. "Whitethorn was never in any of those meetings, he had no idea what they were about. Yes, there was secrecy, but only because I was teaching them Old Magic, which no one else could know of. That's the only reason I had such influence over them. I worked with the Founders to ensure children would never be afraid of Muggles again, to make sure they could never be harmed by them, and they would never harm them in return. I never intended to cause a rebellion amongst the students. I knew the process would take centuries, and I also knew that the children needed to be confident in themselves and stop believing they were 'evil' and Muggles were 'scum' before any peace-process could begin. I was only starting the process back then, ensuring that one day, there could be peace. But that peace never entailed controlling Muggles, regardless of what Whitethorn thought. He was always rather miffed that I was more closely involved with the Founders than he was."

"Ah yes," said Verax. "He mentions that." He picked up his book and flipped through it once more before clearing his throat and reading: "Emrys' time with the Founders increases daily, until I am sure he spends more time with them than he does with anyone else. It seems they trust him more than I, the Headmaster of their school! Particularly with regards to Lady Rowena, with whom he is hardly ever separate from. All day they are together, and all night too, according to the gossip from the house-elves. Perhaps this is the reason he remains at the castle? There exist several rumours that Lady Rowena's child is not the daughter of her husband as she claims-"

Verax was cut off abruptly, as the book soared from his hand straight into Merlin's, who snapped it shut, a blush on his cheeks.

"Whitethorn always was nosy," he said, and shoved the book into his pocket hurriedly, ignoring the astonished stares he was getting. He turned his glare back to Verax. "You disgust me, Verax. This is the reason you have caused such misery? A few fragments of historical accounts taken out of context? You know nothing of my motivations. You're a fool, and you might just have started the greatest war this world has ever known. You're mad."

Verax' eyes were bulging with fury. "How can you deny it?" he screeched, all silky seduction lost from his voice. "It makes sense! You must take control! It is the only way!"

"Don't dare suggest that to me again," said Merlin, now looing equally as angry. He was shaking, and Harry could swear he saw them glowing, almost as though he was struggling to contain his magic in his fury. "I have spent my life fighting against such views as yours."

"Take him to Azkaban," said Kingsley, scowling with disgust at the man. "If, if, we emerge from this war alive and well, I shall deal with him then. In the meantime, you can sit in a nice little cell of your own. You may have just changed the nature of our very existence forever. The deaths that inevitably follow will be on your hands."

Verax was dragged away from the drawing room, still yelling at Merlin, but Merlin stood with his back facing away from him, still as a statue. Once Verax' deranged screams had faded away, the room seemed oddly quiet.

Harry's heart and mind were racing. Now, more than ever, the situation seemed hopeless. Verax's intentions had always been to have the world descend into civil war. He was mad. Delusional. How could they fix this now?

Kingsley looked rather shaken himself. He breathed in deeply.

"I must go back to the Ministry and sort out the mess there," he said, his voice back to a forced calm. "We must build up a plan to deal with the Muggle government. All of you, either stay here or head back to Hogwarts until I have my plan and we can take some action. They are the safest places to be right now."

"We're staying here," said Ginny immediately. "I know there's nothing we can do at the moment, but …"

She trailed away uncertainly, but Kingsley understood. "Very well," he nodded. "The Order of the Phoenix has formally been recalled. Do what you can from here. Make sure witches and wizards across the country keep their heads down for now; it could be dangerous for them otherwise. Keep that Muggle news channel on and keep an eye out for trouble. If any of Verax's lot or old Death Eaters stir up some trouble, deal with it best you can."

They all nodded, and Kingsley and his Ministry officials turned and left.

"War," said Mrs Weasley, sinking into a chair. "Another war. Will we never have any peace?"

"We will," said Ron, going to his mother's side, his eyes shining with determination. "It won't be like it was hundreds of years ago. Merlin won't let it get like that."

But Merlin was silent. His hands were shaking.

"But what can Muggles do to us?" asked Malfoy. "We've got magic, they don't."

"Unlike you, Mr Malfoy," said McGonagall. "Most people still require wands to use magic. If the Muggles deprive us of our wands, we are vulnerable. And remember, we are a population of thousands compared to a population of millions. And even if we manage to stay hidden, Muggles will be falsely accused and suffer as they once did."

"It took a long time for Muggles to forget that we had ever existed when we first went into hiding," said Percy. "Even if we sign a new International Statute of Secrecy tomorrow, it will be centuries before the Muggles stop believing in us again."

"If they ever do," said Mr Weasley, glancing at the television screen, which was now replaying the debate in the House of Commons. Harry saw his own face on the screen and was alarmed to see in detail the sneers and angry faces that shouted at him as he spoke. In the House, they had all blurred into one, now, each and every condemning face stood out to him like a beacon.

Merlin finally moved, and turned to face everyone. He had reached into his pocket and withdrew Whitethorn's diary, which he held tightly.

"All of this because of one man's twisted interpretation of history," he said softly. "If Whitethorn wasn't already dead I'd give him a piece of my mind. But it's my own fault, I suppose. I always was too distant with him and the other teachers. No wonder they thought I had a bad influence on the Founders."

"So, it's lies, then," said George, an almost mischievous glint in his eye. "All the stuff about Slytherin and the Council?"

"I did meet with the Council with Salazar," said Merlin, "but Whitethorn interpreted it all wrong."

"What about the other interpretations? Did he get those wrong?" Fred asked, starting to smile along with his twin.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "What are you asking?"

"Ravenclaw!" the both said. "Was he right? Was there something between the two of you?"

Merlin's mouth twitched, as though he too wanted to smile, but couldn't bring himself to.

"Perhaps."

"Whoa!" said Bill. "You and Ravenclaw?"

"I've seen her portrait, mate," said Fred, openly grinning. "How on earth did you get her?"

"By lying, concealing my true identity, like I've always done," said Merlin, gripping the book more tightly. "I deceived her, the same way I deceived all the others. Now all my deceptions are coming back to haunt me."

With that, he left the room.

Harry found him, hours later, as everyone else had gone to sleep, no one feeling like returning to Hogwarts. He was sitting in the drawing room, staring mindlessly at the television he'd Summoned from the kitchen, still on mute. Whitethorn's book lay on his lap.

Merlin deliberately ignored Harry, fixing his eyes on the screen, trying to control the raging anger and frustration he felt building up inside. His mind was a tumult of mixed emotions, and he felt like screaming in anger, in despair... he didn't know what to do.

He had always been so certain. He had always had the Old Religion whispering in his ear, telling him to wait, to bide his time, reassuring him in his darkest days that it would all be worth it in the end. But now, pure silence, with nothing but his own tortured thoughts. Why had it abandoned him so?

He had thought he had finally found peace with himself, stopped feeling guilty, stopped obsessing about everything and finally had the opportunity to rest and begin to live his life once more. But he wasn't finished, he never would be. It was never ending.

Why was it still tormenting him like this? He'd thought all of that was over. He had allowed his hopes and dreams to be built up, only to be ripped away, leaving him far more desolate than before.

This was his fault. He had so hoped that Verax would be the one to end the Long Separation that he had willed himself blind to his faults. How could he have been so stupid? He had selfishly leapt on this opportunity without thinking it through.

He found himself so lost in his own thoughts once more, he had almost forgotten Harry was in the room.

"So, you're here to stop me blaming myself?" he asked. "Bit rich coming from you, isn't it?"

"This isn't about me," said Harry, taking a seat next to him. "I thought you were done with that whole 'this is all my fault' thing when you killed Morgana."

"So did I, but I was wrong. This is my fault," said Merlin.

"How?" asked Harry. "How can what Verax did possibly be your fault?"

"He took his inspiration from me," said Merlin, hanging his head to avoid looking at the images of destruction on the television. "It's always been me that wanted the end of the Long Separation. He's based this whole campaign on me. Part of what he says is true."

"How can you say that?" asked Harry. "No matter what you once said or did, you never wanted this. He's twisted your words."

"Words I should never have said," said Merlin bitterly. "For too long I did nothing against the image I'd gotten, and that was my mistake."

He sighed, and looked down at the book. "The world sees me as some sort of hero, always has done since the days of Camelot, whether I deserve it or not. And the Wizards' Council, right from the beginning, they claimed I was their Founder, based their beliefs on 'mine'. They acted in my name, did unspeakable things in my name. I went with Salazar to those meetings, I saw the statues and tapestries they had of me and the false beliefs they preached, and I didn't do anything. I lurked in the background, let Salazar do most of the talking and let them keep thinking what they liked. I always hated the way they used my name, but I never did anything against it. I was too determined to remain hidden and so I let my name and message become distorted. That's what Verax picked up on. I let them keep on believing the false legends, simply because it was easier for me to hide that way. I told myself that the true message will come out in the end, but I hadn't realised just how long that would take, and now the belief is far too firmly entrenched to be removed."

He clenched his fists. "It's happening all over again. I spent so much time in the shadows people have forgotten who I really was and what I really believed. I should never have let this 'saviour' image get this far."

"Because you don't think you deserve it?"

"Because I'm sick and tired of people having false perceptions of me," he said. "I mean, look at my Chocolate Frog card! I never was that bearded old man, but that's how people know me. You didn't like the idea of Scrimgeour using your name to bolster his own policies, equally, I hated the Wizards' Council doing the same thing."

He shook his head. "I've been used for their own means, and I was a fool to allow it to happen. I was just so desperate to believe this was possible. And now, we face years of war and struggle because of me. I allowed Camelot to fall the first time, and I've spent centuries trying to make up for it. Now the chance is here, but I'm not ready, the world isn't ready. And I'm mortal now, I'm not going to be able to see it out this time. And I have to. I can't leave the world like this."

"You might not have to," said Harry. "If anyone can arrange a truce, it's you."

"I'm not so sure," said Merlin. "Maybe I was a fool to think this was going to be easy."

"But the Old Religion-"

Merlin laughed. "The Old Religion isn't helping me with this one. And I was always nothing without it. Just plain old Merlin the manservant again, completely clueless."

"You were never clueless, Merlin," said Harry firmly. "I might not have known you then, but I know you were never clueless. You've never been an idiot or a fool. You should trust yourself, Merlin. Don't rely on the Old Religion. You do deserve your reputation. It's time you had some confidence in that again. I got my reputation because I got lucky as a baby, you got yours because you earned it. You need to remember why."

Merlin almost smiled. "The Old Religion gave me my reputation. It predicted my birth centuries beforehand. I'm helpless without its guidance."

"Stop being so pessimistic."

"You sound like I did all last year."

"Good, at least one of us does," he said. "How can you forget all of that so easily? You guided me when I was lost, and now it's my turn, Old Religion or no Old Religion. You wouldn't let me be pessimistic then, and I won't let you do the same. I won't lie, I'm afraid of what might happen. But we need to focus on fixing it, rather than blaming yourself."

Merlin looked up, and smiled. "It looks like you were a good student, Harry. Maybe I should start taking my own advice."

"Yeah," said Harry, looking uncomfortable now. Wanting to change the subject, he let his eyes drift over towards Merlin, and they rested on the book. "Is what Whitethorn said true? About you and Ravenclaw?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Parts of it," he said, looking away.

"The Grey Lady-"

"No," said Merlin immediately. "That rumour was around at lot at the time. I looked after Helena a lot and I was … ahem, close to her mother, but no, she isn't mine. I could never have settled down and had a family, no matter how much I wanted to. I never allowed myself too. I was too focused on hiding."

"Well, maybe, when all of this is sorted out, you can," said Harry.

Merlin, not wanting to contradict him said nothing. He just looked up at the television, which was showing fresh images of violence.

"If this all gets sorted out," he said. "The violence on the Continent is just getting worse."

It was at that moment, that Merlin saw the headlines running underneath the images. Riot deaths reported in Liverpool, Swansea and Birmingham.

"That's not the Continent," said Harry, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide. "That's here."

He was right. Merlin felt his new found optimism drain away and be replaced with despair once more.

This new war had reached Britain. Was there any hope left now?

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will be uploaded on Sunday , if not before :)