"Can you feel the difference, Malcolm?" Lord Eldron's voice came from somewhere Merlin couldn't be sure of.

"Yes," he murmured, eyes closed, focusing intently. His magic seemed to surround him in a haze of colourful swirls he could see even from beyond closed eyes. He filtered out the familiar, and instead let the unfamiliar wash over him.

"Tell me, what is it like?"

"It's wilder," Merlin answered, probing the new magic gently and experimentally. "It's … hotter, if that makes sense. It feels … it doesn't feel like magic, it feels like it's a living thing, a great monster, a dangerous monster."

"It can be," said Eldron. "Find the balance. The balance between the serenity of your normal magic and your Dragonlord magic. The two must work in tandem. Let both fill you."

Merlin tried to do as asked, but struggled with the sheer force of the Dragonlord magic. "It's hungry," he said, trying to express in words the strange sensations he was experiencing. "Like it's trying to eat its way through my normal magic."

"Do not let it," said Eldron.

"How can I let the two work together without mixing them?"

"Control it."

"How?"

Eldron was silent, and Merlin fought to not get annoyed and stay calm. He was shaking all over, and he could feel the sweat forming on his forehead. The mixing of the two sources of magic within him was like trying to contain an explosion. It was like water and fire, two complete opposites fighting for domination. How was he supposed to sort this out?

He withdrew further into his own mind, forgetting that Eldron was watching him, forgetting the events of the day. He became the magic inside of him, he felt every little ripple, every swirl, every spark of life. He focused on the two opposing forces inside of them, visualising holding one in each hand, fighting intensely to keep the both separate, letting the two of them fuel the magic in his veins.

He opened his eyes, and found Eldron sitting opposite him in the courtyard. He nodded slightly.

"Better," he said, "but there's still even more potential. Keep it steady."

"I don't know if I can," said Merlin, his trembling increasing.

"You must focus it," said Eldron. "Try the spell for Dragonsight."

"I can't-"

"Do it," Eldron commanded.

Merlin poured what he could manage of the two forces into his words: "Dracagesihþ."

As he did, he felt his heart leap, and a roaring sensation in his mind. The world suddenly seemed clearer, more defined.

"Look at me," Eldron said, and Merlin did so, surprised to see that Eldron seemed to be surrounded by a faint aura he had not noticed before. It shimmered and wobbled in the air. "Tell me, Malcolm, which is the lie? The westernmost Dragonlord tribe is led by a man named Tyran. My son is second-in-command."

Merlin concentrated on the aura that he saw, but the more he looked, the more it seemed to undulate, swirling and indistinct shapes. Keeping sight of the aura was like keeping water in his hands. He looked closer, hearing more roaring in his mind, his heart beat growing faster, his hands trembling still. It was like holding one's breath, desperately holding on as long as possible before control lapsed. His whole body was tense and he felt nauseous. But finally, when he was about to cease the spell from weariness, he saw a shift in the aura, and he knew what it meant, though he didn't know how.

He dropped the spell, and gasped for breath, feeling weak all over. He bent over, feeling almost like he was about to be sick.

"Well?" asked Eldron, still sitting calmly opposite, watching him.

"The second one," said Merlin, his voice quavering slightly. "The one about your son."

Eldron nodded with approval, a slight smile on his lips. "Good."

Merlin was still recovering. "All that effort for one lie?" he asked. "What's the point?"

"It will get easier with time," Eldron said. "Soon, you won't even need to utter the incantation, you will be able to enter this state at will. And with practice, you'll learn more. How to see the motivations behind lies, desires and wishes. The most skilled can even detect lies and deception without entering the Dragonsight state. You have done this before, I suspect. You've been able to see lies and deceptions before, though without any degree of certainty."

"How long?" Merlin asked, and Eldron shook his head.

"Do not be hasty with magic like this. You see how powerful it is. Some have gone mad with trying to control both sides to their magic like this without care. A man who feasts after days of starvation does more damage than good. Similarly, you must build yourself up slowly. Your Dragonlord magic is used to being locked away, you must adjust yourself to having it run through you at all times."

"And this is without using Dragon Magic," Merlin grumbled. "How much more difficult will that be?"

"Strangely, it is easier," said Eldron. "The magic is more powerful yes, but easier. The Dragon Magic will mould seamlessly with your own with little effort; it is a gift from them. The only difficulty involved is gaining the Bond in the first place."

"Then why couldn't I start with Dragon Magic?"

"Because it cannot be taught," said Eldron. "I cannot have neat little lessons with you on how to gain the trust of a dragon. It is something you do on your own. You learned normal magic on your own, you will learn Dragon Magic yourself … the only thing that needs to be taught is Dragonlord magic."

Merlin nodded, trying to take all of this in. If this was the case, he'd be better off focusing solely on Dragonlord magic. What would be the point in forming a Bond with Niamhrach or any of the other dragons in this time? Once he went back to 1999 they'd all be dead. No, he'd stay and learn Dragonlord magic, and when he went back to the future, that would be when he'd learn Dragon Magic. Surely he'd spent enough time with Kilgharrah and Aithusa over the centuries to form a Bond with them? They'd guide him, and he would be able to use their magic to fix everything.

A small nagging doubt crept into the back of his mind: If that was the case, why haven't they told you of this before now? Maybe they don't want to form a Bond with you. If it was that simple, why haven't they suggested it?

Pushing aside these unwelcome thoughts, Merlin hastily changed the subject.

"So if the thing about your son was a lie, what does he do?"

Immediately, Eldron's demeanour changed. He stood up and brushed his robes down with the back of his hand.

"I have no son," he answered. "Not anymore."

Merlin stood too. "Because of all this unrest?"

Eldron nodded slightly. "He was a guardian of so much knowledge. One of our best hopes for preserving our heritage for the future. But ignorance and folly cut that off."

"And that's why you're so desperate for things not to be forgotten," said Merlin.

Eldron smiled at him. "Our people deserve not to be forgotten, Malcolm. If teaching you means that you can teach others, keep our culture going for a little while longer … it will be worth it."

Merlin was left without knowing what to say, but fortunately, he didn't need to say anything, for at that moment, some people began crossing the courtyard. Tall men in robes with triple spiral tattoos, older men leaning on staffs, women and children following in their wake. All looked grave. They barely glanced at the two Dragonlords as they crossed the courtyard and entered the narrow corridors in the direction of the Great Hall.

"They're here for the Gathering," said Eldron. He followed them with his eyes. "We seldom gather in such large numbers. It exposes us to external eyes. Druids believe themselves to be safer in small groups rather than together as one. But this threat we face is greater than we have ever known."

"Just how bad is it?" Merlin asked.

"Little has actually happened," said Eldron sighing. "Aside from the sporadic attacks on us, the persecution has been somewhat mild."

"Then what's the problem?"

"What it is leading to," said Eldron. "Something is coming, and that scares us more than what is going on right now. We can all sense it."

"Can't you see what's happening?" Merlin asked. "I thought you said Dragonlords can see into the future? Why can't the dragons see it?"

"I believe they can, or at least some of it," said Eldron. "But they do not wish to reveal it to us. And as such, we cannot know what will happen. Dragonlords can only see the future they let us see. Most of our magic is dependent on their good will."

"Then what's the point of it?" asked Merlin, feeling dejected. "You could use your magic to help these people, to stop whatever evil is coming. But you can't simply because they won't let you."

"It is more complex than that," said Eldron. "We are all a part of destiny. The dragons are the only ones who can see it clearly. We must trust them."

Merlin tried not to show his frustration. Kilgharrah could have stopped the Purge if he and the other dragons had only been less stubborn. All of the people dying in 1999 could have been saved if he and Aithusa had simply told him of the abilities he could have. The control of the Old Religion had never seemed more repugnant to him. It dictated who lived and who died. Once Merlin would have taken comfort from that, but now he resented it. Was there no such thing as free will? Was there any point in living at all if everything he did was controlled by a higher power?

Eldron turned back to Merlin. "Enough of this. We have several hours yet. Try it again."

Down by the lake, Harry and Ginny were enjoying what time to themselves they could get, sitting on the bank, watching the mist and the little boats bearing Druids that docked every so often.

"Looks like every Druid in the country has turned up," murmured Ginny, her head resting on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Pity it won't do any good."

"It's horrible," said Ginny, watching as people disembarked the latest boat. "They're trying to fight back, stay alive, but it's not going to work. Most of them are going to die, and the rest will be persecuted the rest of their lives. This is the death of their entire way of life, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I wish we could have come back to a different time," he said. "One that isn't so close to the Purge."

"It would still have been sad," said Ginny.

"Not as much though," said Harry. "But this … these people are going to be the ones affected. It might have been easier to accept if we'd come back a few generations earlier."

"No matter what generation, everyone we met was going to end up dead anyway. It is the past after all."

"But not so violently," said Harry. He sighed. He felt completely miserable. "This meeting … what they decide there might be what sealed their fate."

"That's why we'll have to be careful," said Ginny. "We can't interfere. I don't even think we should go."

"That's what Ron said," said Harry. "But Merlin's insisting we go. Besides, it would look strange if everyone except us were there."

"You don't think Merlin's going for all the wrong reasons?" Ginny said. She sat up and looked directly at him. "He won't try and change anything, will he?"

"He isn't that stupid," said Harry, but secretly, he had his doubts. Merlin lately … it was like he didn't even know him. He was bitter, vague, so bereft of hope …

"You reckon he's doing the right then by learning this Dragonlord magic?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," said Harry immediately. "That's one thing I'm sure of. At first, I was worried about him getting too close to the Dragonlords, but he's meant to learn this magic. That's why Kilgharrah sent him back here at this time. The Old Religion wants him to learn this."

"Then what's the problem?" Ginny asked, hearing his unenthusiastic tone.

"He's not even trying to get the High Council to accept him," said Harry. "He thinks if he learns this magic, we can go back and fix everything with it. He doesn't believe in our original mission any ore."

"Maybe he's right? Maybe this magic can fix things without erasing everything."

Harry shook his head. "No, the spell is what we came for, it's what we need. Merlin might need to learn this magic, but it's got nothing to do with our mission."

"Since when have you been able to interpret the Old Religion so well?"

"Since Merlin stopped believing in it." Said Harry. "I've always heard it, but I feel it stronger now that Merlin seems to have given up on it. I need to guide him back onto the right path."

"Why can't he hear it anymore?"

"He won't listen, that's why," said Harry. "And to be honest, I don't blame him for losing faith after everything it's put him through lately. But it won't last. It can't. Separating Merlin and the Old Religion is like separating the sea and the sky."

"I hope you're right," said Ginny. "I don't like this new Merlin."

"None of us do."

They lingered by the shores of the lake for several more hours, neither feeling much like heading back inside to all the uncertainty and worried grumbling within the castle walls. Light had begun to fade by the time they stood and walked back. They found the others inside the Great Hall which was now overflowing with the extra amount of people here. The refugees that had not yet recovered had been sent to a smaller chamber, and the room was filled with Druids of all ages and ilk.

"Chaos, isn't it?" said Ron when they finally found him and the rest in the sea of druids. "We won't be able to debate anything squashed in like sardines!"

"Debates are in another room," said Merlin, emerging from the crowd. He looked tired, but his eyes were alert. "And anyway, we won't be getting involved."

"Where are we to go?" Hermione asked.

"The Hall of Gathering," said Merlin. "It's the other side of the island. Draco's been there before when we were searching for Morgana."

Everyone turned to look at him. Draco looked embarrassed. "I remember," he said. "All the crests of the important families are on the walls."

"And so is your family's," said Merlin. "They might be here even now. Your ancestors."

Draco blinked and looked around, a new expression on his face. Several important looking Druids were indeed wearing robes with a crest embroidered on the front.

"Malfoys?" muttered Ron. "I don't see any slimy, blonde gits, do you?"

Harry stood on Ron's foot, urging him to shut up. Malfoy was insecure enough about his family without Ron making it worse. Not that he was particularly fond of Malfoy, or even liked him, but in the spirit of co-operation that now existed between them since Morgana, he wanted to keep everything as civil as possible. Besides, he felt sorry for him. Draco had had the worst misfortunate to be born into such a family.

Fortunately, Malfoy didn't seem to have heard, such was the volume of noise in the room. Hermione had turned to Merlin.

"Will you be alright?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered straight away, but Harry could see the tightening of his jaw.

"Have you spent all day with Eldron?" Harry asked him, seeing just how exhausted he looked.

"Yeah," said Merlin, smiling a little. "I haven't been this tired form learning magic since I was a youth. It's exhilarating." He glanced over to the far wall, where Harry saw the Dragonlords standing as a group. They seemed to consist of more than just the three that had arrived with the refugees, but his view was obscured by the many people in the room.

At that moment, there was a ringing of a bell deep within the depths of the castle, and everyone together began to file out of the doors, presumably to the Hall of Gathering. Harry felt the anticipation growing. He followed the crowd, solemn as it suddenly was, out through the courtyard and then in through a smaller door on the other side he hadn't even noticed before. Inside was a huge hall, larger than the Great Hall, but with a lower roof. As Malfoy had said, engraved crests covered the walls, though in the semi-darkness he couldn't get a good view. There were no chairs, and instead everyone sat on the ground, leaving a small circle in the centre, where there burned a small fire. High Priest Findan and High Priestess Melian were standing there, both wearing ceremonial robes and solemn expressions.

Soon, every corner of the room had someone crammed into it, sitting with legs folded. Harry found himself squashed between Hermione and Merlin, with Ron behind him digging into his back with his huge feet.

A murmur of voices that had filled the room suddenly stilled as Melian and Findan raised their arms. The silence was deafening, and the magic in the room seemed to grow stronger until he could almost taste it on the air.

Next to him, Merlin drew a sharp breath.

"What is it?" Harry asked, his voice as low as possible.

Merlin shook his head. "Nothing, it's just … " he looked around for a moment, a small frown on his face. "I felt … there's a presence here that I know … I can't understand it."

They were prevented from talking further when Findan began to speak.

"Welcome all to the Isle of the Blessed. I am sorry that a visit to the Sacred Isle should be on such serious a matter, but we cannot hide from this anymore. We must speak together. We must unite to face this new threat."

"What new threat?"

A Druid had stood on the other side of the room. He stared directly at Findan. "I know of no threat," he continued. "Life as far as I am concerned is unaltered. Whatever shadows there are I do not know of."

He sat, but not before another Druid had begun to rise. "You live on the outermost borders," he said, glaring at the Druid who had spoken. "There is peace in your land, but this is not the case elsewhere. Our people are being attacked, driven from cities, feared and hunted by soldiers. It is only going to get worse."

He sat, and another Druid stood to speak. "My clan has been driven from forest to forest, never being able to remain too long in one place," she said. "They will not leave us alone, chasing us all over, treating us like vermin that must be driven out."

"We have always been a nomadic people," said another Druid as he stood. "The Ungifted have always been uneasy with us on their lands. This is nothing new."

"Never before have they threatened us," said another Druid, an old woman who glared at the man. "They've been uneasy, asked us to move on before, yes, but never have they done so at sword point. Never have they threatened to burn down our homes, torture our children, attack our women. This is no longer mere rivalry, this is becoming war."

There were a few cries of protest at this. Harry noticed some Druids shaking their heads, but others nodding vigorously.

"And what about those refugees that lie in agony just on the other side of this island?" said Rhona, standing from her place by the wall. Her dress was still blood-stained from her healing duties. "They were ambushed by Knights from Camelot. They are changing their ways towards us. I fear for our people. We must do something."

"What?" another asked. "Make war? It is not our way."

"Make peace then," said Rhona, who hadn't even bothered sitting down. "Send envoys to the kings who attack us. The peace settlements of three centuries ago have been forgotten by these kings, we must forge new ones to protect our people."

"And who says they'll listen to us?"

"What if they refuse?"

"We must fight back!"

"Druids are a peaceful people, we cannot retaliate with violence."

"Violence may soon be the only option."

This went on for a while, some Druids calling for peace, others for violence, and more for patience. People leapt up and down from their places on the floor demanding to be heard so fast Harry could not keep track. It reminded him of the chaos in the House of Commons just a few weeks ago. Everything was descending into a rabble.

He turned to Merlin to see a look of anger on his face. He was shaking his head as he saw what was going on in front of him. He reached out and placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Stay calm," he whispered. "There's nothing you can do."

Merlin frowned and looked at the floor. He swallowed heavily.

Finally, High Priestess Melian held out her hands for silence, which was immediately granted.

"Calm, my brothers and sisters," she said, her soft voice carrying easily across the silent chamber. "We must remember who we are, and where we are. We are no savages, who communicate with anger and violence only. We need practical solutions for our plight."

The Druid who had spoken first stood, brushing down his robes. "Forgive me, Lady Melian," he said. "But I think we need do nothing. No one is dead, are they? Disputes like these are common enough and it shall soon blow over. Nothing is yet urgent."

"So you'd rather wait until things were urgent?" Rhona shouted. "Then what? We'll be in an even worse situation then. Better call for peace now before there are fatalities. The injuries I saw on those Druids these last few days would have been fatal if not for my care. We cannot ignore this!"

The other Druid was shaking his head. "That was an isolated incident. I assure you, the majority of our people are perfectly safe. They aren't gadding about incurring the ire of rulers."

"Gadding about?" demanded Rhona, leaping to her feet, despite her age. "Many of these people were not even Druids, just users of magic causelessly attacked. They were innocent!"

"Not even Druids? Then why concern ourselves?" said the man. "Let us look after our own and let others worry. Our people are perfectly safe, and we have this haven which no Ungifted would dare attack. Why annoy the kings with needless negotiations? As far as my clan is concerned, the status quo needs no alteration."

"Of course your clan thinks so, Heroc," said Rhona. "You don't care for anyone but your own little gang. I'm talking about our people, or have you forgotten that you have a duty to every Druid, every sorcerer and every other user of magic? But of course, you're well in with the nobility of the outer kingdoms aren't you? Corruption and bribery are your true gifts. You'll be happy to just throw everyone else to the dogs!"

Heroc's eyes blazed with fury. "You know nothing," he said. "Being a daughter of a Dragonlord does not give you the right to speak so imperiously. What power do you have?"

Rhona laughed. "I may not be a Dragonlord, Heroc, or have my father's magic. But I'm still closer to dragons than anyone else here. Do you really want to see what they'll do to you if I were to ask?"

"Cease these idle threats," said another Druid, scowling at the both of them. "If there is a genuine problem, we must discuss it rationally." He turned back to Melian and Findan in the centre of the room. "Is this is as big a threat as they say, then why are not the entire High Council here to discuss it? Where are Lords Neman, Gailan and Siral? Where is Lady Morwen? Lady Nimueh?"

Merlin started next to him, and Harry could feel him shaking with rage. Findan and Melian exchanged a quick glance.

"They are working," said Findan, but everyone could see through the lie. "Seeking guidance from the gods and meditating."

"I heard one of them has turned against us," said another Druid. "That they're helping one of these kings go after us."

"I heard Lord Gailan is enchanting King Ferin in a plot to invade his neighbours."

"And I heard Lady Nimueh is seducing King Uther and hoping she can become his mistress."

"Is it true? Has one of the High Council turned against us?"

Findan and Melian kept their faces expressionless, but Harry could see the troubled look in their eyes. Or was that only because he knew the truth? Everyone was staring at them now, holding their breath.

"No member of the High Council has turned against us," Findan said. "There is no need to panic."

Harry stared as he told this blatant lie to the entire room. No wonder the Druids had been near wiped out. Their secrecy, in-fighting, lies … they were already disunited.

"You see?" Heroc said, standing once more with a triumphant smile on his face. "You all act as though the High Council retreating to the Inner Sanctum was an unusual event! There is nothing suspicious about it now. The Isle of the Blessed is safe, and so are our people."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably next to Harry. He could tell he wanted nothing more than to jump up and say something. The amount of willpower involved not to do so must be phenomenal. Harry himself was having trouble with it.

"You're deluded, Heroc," said another. "The omens are clear, something is looming closer. Evil, death, destruction. Our people are in danger."

"According to whom?" scoffed Heroc. "I sense no evil, from whom are you getting this? What authority?"

"The ultimate authority. The dragons themselves."

Another man had stood from the corner the Dragonlords had gathered in. He too was wearing the black robes and golden dragon insignia of his rank, only his were travel-stained and worn, and he had two swords strapped to his waist. He was young, with dark hair and beard, bright eyes gleaming from beneath heavy eyebrows.

"The dragons have warned us of the danger that is coming," he said. "We would be a fool to ignore them. Unless you would sanction questioning their authority, Heroc? Our world is being threatened. We cannot stand idly by. We must make peace with the kingdoms. To do otherwise would be to court disaster."

There were a few nods and noises of encouragement at this speech, and those that had been unconvinced were beginning to agree. The man was obviously influential, either by his position or his fierce looking appearance.

Harry suddenly noticed Merlin had gone still, had ceased shaking with anger, his entire body frozen. Harry turned his head and saw he'd gone incredibly pale, staring at the man with wide unblinking eyes, astonishment all over his face.

The man was not finished. "The dragons have spoken, they have foreseen the trouble that is coming. We must listen to them."

"And why do they not tell us from whence this trouble comes?" Heroc asked, eyeing the Dragonlord with distaste. "Or can they not see that far?"

The Dragonlord glared at him. "You dare question the power of the dragons? They have warned us, that is all you need to know. Only a fool would do nothing. But then again, we all know what a fool you are, Heroc. You're nothing more than a lap dog for the Ungifted kings, a pet sorcerer willing to sell his skills for some pretty gold and rich clothes. You betray our people. No wonder our race is declining, why the Old Religion is fading. People like you are destroying it. People like you destroy any good that is in this world. I will have no part in it. I will fight to the last dragon to keep my people alive and free. We need to sort this out before fighting becomes an option."

More Druids leapt to their feet to speak, some to back up the Dragonlord, others to contradict him, and then more stood to voice other concerns, other opinions, until the rabble was back in full flow, with nothing being decided, nothing being agreed upon. Rivalries between the different clans surfaced, disagreements became heated despite the attempts of Melian and Findan to settle them. Some began to storm out.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, as the arguing grew louder. "And I thought double Potions with the Slytherins was tense."

"No wonder everything went wrong," said Hermione, as they all moved closer together and leaned in. "I mean, they can't agree on anything. I thought Druids were peaceful and democratic?"

"It's the different clans," said Luna. "On their own they get on fine, but coming together … all they can do is argue."

"That Dragonlord bloke was right," said Ginny. "If the dragons are saying something is wrong, who would ignore them? They're like centuries old, right? It's so stupid."

"Yeah," said Harry. "He's right about that Heroc guy. As long as things are going okay with his part of the world, he doesn't care about anyone else. It's selfishness."

"He must have arrived today," said Hermione. "He wasn't one of the others that came with the refugees."

"You sure?" said Ron. "I could have sworn I'd seen him somewhere before."

"No, he definitely wasn't one of them," said Ginny. "None of them were as young as that."

"Still looks familiar."

"He wasn't there," insisted Hermione. "I'd remember. He's new, isn't he, Merlin? Merlin?"

Merlin was still frozen, not even listening to the conversation, face still pale. He looked like he was in shock.

"Merlin," said Hermione, louder this time, jerking him out of his trance. "Have you seen that Dragonlord before?"

Merlin blinked at her for a moment before casting a half-glance back at the Dragonlord, who was by now arguing with a Druid next to him.

"Y-yes, I've seen him before."

"See?" said Ron, smiling. "He's one of the ones that came with the refugees."

Slowly, Merlin shook his head. "No, he wasn't one of them."

Ron frowned. "But how … "

The realisation struck Harry like a hammer to his gut. That man, he was-

Merlin swallowed, and laughed nervously. "No, Ron, that Dragonlord … he's … he's my father."

As one, they gasped, and immediately turned to get a better look at the Dragonlord. At first glance, there wasn't much of a similarity, but the more Harry looked, the more he saw. The expression of the eyes, the way he spoke so passionately, even the way he held himself … it was all Merlin. Harry couldn't sense the man's magic with so many people in the room, but something drew him to the man, something familiar. Like a giant signpost hanging over his head.

"That's Balinor?" Hermione practically squeaked, hands over her mouth. "Are you sure?"

"I think I'd recognise my own father, Hermione."

"But he's younger-"

"Hermione, it's him," said Harry, still staring at the man, wondering how he hadn't seen it straight away.

Hermione looked worried. "But this is terrible! We can't have you running into him!"

Merlin turned to look at her sharply. "Why not?" he asked, a slight edge to his voice. "I'm disguised, my name is different, why shouldn't I see him?"

"It's too risky," said Hermione. "Who knows what you could give away?"

Merlin turned away, his face hard, fists clenched. He fixed his eyes on his father.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," said Hermione, her face softer. "But if he even suspects …"

"I get it," said Merlin, dully, still staring across the room.

"It's just-"

"I get it!" Merlin said, louder, causing other Druids closer to jump and stare at him.

There followed an uncomfortable silence within their small group. No one knew what to say. Harry couldn't take his own eyes off of Balinor. What was going through Merlin's mind right now? Harry tried to imagine how he'd feel if it were his father across the room, close enough to talk to, to get to know …

The meeting wound up with nothing being decided but several new rivalries being formed. Everyone was still arguing as they left the hall. Harry and the others made it out into the courtyard and found a relatively quiet spot. Merlin looked straight ahead, not looking at anybody. His fists were still clenched.

"Well, at least we didn't interfere," said Ron nervously. "I can see why they got wiped out so easily. I've seen Blast-Ended Skrewts that were nicer to each other."

Nobody said anything.

Harry knew he had to try and say something, anything to solve this. But he didn't know what. He was saved from saying anything by a shout from across the courtyard.

"Malcolm!" Eldron, the Dragonlord was crossing the courtyard. Harry welcomed the interruption, but soon froze when he saw who was accompanying Eldron.

Eldron drew to a stop in front of Merlin. "Malcolm," he nodded. "I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is Balinor, one of your kin."

Balinor nodded briefly to Merlin, who had gone completely still, staring at his father. Seeing him close up, Harry noticed yet more similarities between the two men. Balinor looked young, but troubled, almost intimidating.

Merlin swallowed and opened his mouth, and Harry was astonished to see him lost for words. He blinked a couple of times, before speaking.

"I know who you are," he blurted out. "I- I mean, I've heard of you," he said, seeing their surprise.

"Really?" asked Balinor, eyeing Merlin closely. "In what context?"

Merlin faltered for a moment. "Uh, just- just gossip, you know? The Druids here have mentioned you a couple of times."

"I see," said Balinor, though he looked suspicious. "What tribe did you say you were from?"

"Somewhere in the north," said Eldron, when Merlin was silent. "Some of our kin settled there. But I fear they have not kept up the traditions. Malcom here is sadly ignorant of his Dragonlord magic."

"Why does that not surprise me?" grumbled Balinor. "No one has any respect any more for the old ways."

"Exactly what I said!"

Rhona had emerged from the Hall behind them and stood with her hands on her hips staring at them. "The boy knows nothing! And it'll be him and his descendants watching over the dragons of the future! How can they do that if they don't know the first thing about them?"

"Rhona," said Eldron coaxingly. "Ignorance is not a crime. That is why I have brought Balinor here. No one is a better teacher."

"You want to teach me?" Merlin said, his voice higher than usual. "You?"

Balinor raised an eyebrow. "I have much experience with teaching, though perhaps not much as of late. Eldron is accomplished, certainly, but he has not the patience for teaching. I'd be glad to share my knowledge with you. Unless you'd rather stick with Eldron-"

"No," said Merlin immediately. "I mean, if … if it's not too much trouble … I'd like you to teach me."

"Good," nodded Balinor, even as Rhona rolled her eyes behind him. "I shall see you in the morning then."

"Great," said Merlin breathlessly, a smile forming on his face. "I can't wait."

A smile formed on Balinor's face too, but then faded slightly as he looked more closely at Merlin.

"Do I know you, boy?" he asked. "You seem familiar to me."

Harry could sense Hermione next to him holding her breath, and his own heart was thumping. Was it possible for a Dragonlord to sense a family bond like this?

"No," said Merlin, and his own smile faded somewhat until he looked sad. "We've never met."

"I see," said Balinor, though still looking curious. "Well, I look forward to teaching you, Malcolm. You seem like you have respect for the old ways. A rarity these days."

"You're telling me," said Rhona. "The boy's never even made an effort to learn more about his heritage. He actively avoided Niamhrach, you know. How anyone could-"

"Now, Aunt Rhona," said Balinor, laying a hand on her elbow. "We must not judge. We must count the little victories. The hope for our future lies in young men like Malcolm. Come."

He nodded briefly to Merlin, and he, Eldron and Rhona left them standing in the courtyard.

"Well …" began Ron, but Hermione cut across him.

"He's going to teach you!" she said, wringing her hands. "He's going to figure it out! I know he is."

Merlin said nothing, just continued staring after his father.

"We'll have to be so careful," said Hermione. She stopped her fretting and took a deep breath. She looked at Merlin. "I thought you said he was stubborn and grumpy?"

"He was when I knew him," said Merlin faintly. "But that was only for a couple of days, after all of this is gone. He was so cynical, so hopeless and defeated, hiding in a cave from his problems and those of the rest of the world … the Purge turned him into that. This man … this is who he truly is. I never got to know that side of him."

"Now you will," said Luna, smiling gently. "You'll get to know him for who he was."

"Yeah …" said Merlin. "I will."

A small smile crossed his face. Then suddenly, he laughed.

"What?" asked Harry, seeing nothing funny.

Merlin kept laughing, and took a moment to calm down. "Did you hear what he called Rhona?" he asked, chuckling. "Can you believe it? Rhona is my Great-Aunt!"

Thinking of the grumpy old woman and the looks of disgust she gave to Merlin every time she saw him, Harry couldn't help but laugh as well.

"I never knew any of my family apart from my parents," said Merlin. "I finally get to meet one and she hates me!"

"A horrible aunt? Join the club!" said Harry, laughing. "Me and Malfoy probably still have you beat though!"

Everyone laughed, but when Harry turned to look at Malfoy, he saw him standing there, stony faced. He was staring at the hall, and the trickle of people still coming out of it. He was frowning.

Harry stopped laughing immediately. Malfoy was really confusing him these days. Just the day before he'd been laughing in his class, but then clammed up immediately whenever someone else tried to speak to him. And now he was staring at the hall with such a look of sadness on his face Harry knew it had nothing to do with the Druids.

What was going on with him?