When Merlin awoke the following morning, he lay awake in his bed for several minutes, smiling to himself. Things may be beginning to deteriorate, the world collapsing, but he was here on the Isle of the Blessed learning the magic he needed to fix things in the future, and he was being taught by his father.

Seeing him again had hit him more painfully than he had expected, but after the initial shock and worry about being recognised (however illogical that was) he found himself the happiest he had been in weeks. He could finally get to know him, the real Balinor the Purge had destroyed. It was a happiness tinged only with the smallest degree of sadness; the knowledge that he could never tell Balinor who he was. But, he decided, that didn't matter. Balinor would know him in the future, he'd be watching over him. Balinor didn't need to know. It was enough for him that he did. Enough that he could finally learn the magic of his people from his own flesh and blood.

He got up and dressed quickly, moving quietly so as to not wake up the others in the room. He knew they were all worried about him getting too close to Balinor, in case he saw him for who he really was, but how could he? He was disguised after all, how could Balinor possibly suspect that he was his son from the future? Even the moment when Balinor had appeared to recognise him the night before didn't worry him. That could easily be explained by the fact they were all Dragonlords; Eldron had said something similar when they'd first met. Their magic was kin, all of them, no one would guess that Merlin and Balinor were of a closer relation than everyone else.

He left the room and hurried down the stairs in the direction of the Great Hall, where he hoped he'd find Balinor, despite the somewhat early hour, feeling the way he had done when young and learning magic for the first time. The excitement was almost tangible.

He entered the Great Hall, busy already with all the representatives of the clans who had arrived for the meeting the previous night. Strangely, most looked relaxed and laughed over the breakfast, taking an opportunity to catch up with friends from other clans. Apparently the meeting the previous night, instead of stirring up concern and worry about the future had only dispelled the urgency and fear many had felt. Again, Merlin felt angry. Had none of them listened the previous night, couldn't they see the wisdom in it? It appeared more than ever that it had been complacency and inaction that had sealed the fate of the Druids.

But this anger did not long last, as he soon spotted Balinor sitting at one table, accompanied by the woman Merlin now knew to be his Great-Aunt Rhona. She scowled at him as he drew near.

"Ready to end your ignorance, boy?" she asked.

"Must you always treat young Dragonlords like that, Aunt?" Balinor asked, turning to her. "Ignorance is not always their fault. You should be pleased he is here and willing to learn."

The scowl was now directed at Balinor. "Don't speak to me like that, Balinor. I was looking after dragons before you were born. I don't trust that boy," she turned back to Merlin. "You're hiding something, I know you are. That's why you avoided Niamhrach. I can always tell."

She stood up and left, leaving Merlin to sit opposite his father, hoping he hadn't noticed his wince at the truth in Rhona's words.

"You must forgive my aunt," said Balinor, as soon as she was out of ear-shot. "She is abrupt, direct to the point of rudeness and unforgiving. But she's not so bad underneath all of that. The blood of the Dragonlords runs strongly with her."

"It's alright," said Merlin, realising just how much like his aunt Balinor would end up becoming after the Purge. "Are you close?"

"Very, though she likes to pretend otherwise," Balinor answered. "My parents died when I was fairly young, and so Rhona took me into her home here on the Isle. She taught me almost everything I know about dragons. As the daughter of a Dragonlord, she is blessed with some of our powers, though not all. The rest I had to discover for myself. That is the best way to learn to use such powers: self-discovery. It is much stronger when used on one's own. You cannot teach something so unique to each individual, only guide."

"She must have been strict."

"You have no idea," said Balinor with a laugh. Merlin laughed too, relishing this opportunity to learn more of his family. "But family teaching is our way. We believe magic is best taught to us by blood than any other, so I put up with her ways. Unfortunately, in cases such as yours, we must suffice with what we have."

Merlin kept his face straight with difficulty. Little did Balinor know he was teaching his own blood.

"Where are the others?" he asked, trying to move the subject away.

"Eldron and the rest left late last night," said Balinor. "They have gone to patrol our borders and consult with dragons from other regions. Also to try and convince our distant kin of the urgency of our situation, though I fear it will fall on deaf ears. Our people are not so united any longer."

"Then you only remained to teach me?"

"Teaching you your heritage is just as important," said Balinor. "If we are ever to be a strong people again, we must not give up on our youth or the ones that have strayed. I believe peace can be achieved if we are united."

Merlin looked away; he saw hope in Balinor's face that was so utterly destroyed the next time Merlin met him. That Balinor had wanted Camelot to suffer. The Purge had changed him so much.

"Are you ready?"

Eagerly, Merlin followed him from the Great Hall and into the courtyard he had practiced in with Eldron. They began with Balinor testing what magic Merlin already knew, and went over what Eldron had taught him, testing him the way Eldron had done with Dragonsight, but he wasn't able to keep the Dragonsight spell sustained very long.

He gasped as he released the spell for Dragonsight, Balinor stood watching him.

"Well, which statement was the lie?"

"Um, the first one?"

Balinor regarded him with one raised eyebrow. "That was a guess, wasn't it?"

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "Yes," he admitted. "But I was more certain about that one than the second."

"But not fully?"

"No."

Balinor said nothing, but Merlin felt extremely foolish all of a sudden. It was almost embarrassing to be messing up with Balinor watching. It seemed silly, but he wanted Balinor to be impressed.

"Try again," said Balinor. "And this time, take your time. You're far too eager. "

That's an understatement, Merlin thought to himself, but obliged. He summoned the magic within him, the familiar hum of his normal magic mixing with the unexplored Dragonlord magic, controlling the two as well as he could, taking his time to really feel them together before casting the spell, focusing on the aura around Balinor more intently than before to ascertain which statement was the lie. He did not speak or drop the spell until he was confident, despite his exhaustion. This time he fared better.

"Good," said Balinor. They were standing opposite each other in the courtyard, Merlin resting one hand on the wall behind him after the effort of maintaining the spell, the Dragonlord magic still tingling inside him. "Now, again, and this time, find out more."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't just tell me which statement is the lie," said Balinor. "Tell me more about it, why I'm lying, my motivations, desires. Find out more about these statements."

"I don't understand."

"I'll show you," said Balinor, stepping closer. "I'll enter Dragonsight, and you tell me a lie and a truth."

Inwardly, Merlin began to panic. A truth and a lie? What could he say? How could he say anything without Balinor stumbling across something he shouldn't?

He noticed a shift in the air, and realised Balinor was ready for the spell, taking mere seconds to prepare compared to Merlin's minutes. Merlin racked his brains quickly to find something to say, even as Balinor cast the spell, silently.

"Speak," Balinor said, and Merlin took a deep breath hoping for the best, employing what he knew of Occlumency as best he could.

"I had a best friend named Will as a child. I grew up near the sea."

Balinor hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowed as he looked at Merlin, concentrating, before nodding.

"The second statement is the lie."

"Yes," said Merlin, but Balinor was not finished.

"That is not all I discerned," he said. "Will was your friend from an early age, and you grew closer after he discovered a great secret of yours, one you feared others finding out. He was killed during an attack, and took your secret to his grave out of loyalty to you. You sometimes feel that if you had not kept your secret, he would have survived. As for the second statement, you did not see the sea for the first time until you were fully grown. You grew up in a small village surrounded by woods and small fields, a lonely spot with few visitors. You left there as a young man seeking your destiny. You chose those two statements because you were afraid of my intruding into private matters and thought they were harmless, though you were constantly worried that I would probe deeper."

Merlin froze. He felt uneasy, as though something cold had crept inside of him. He swallowed.

"You- you could tell all of that?" he asked. His heart was beating fast now; what else had he seen? Had his Occlumency worked?

"Yes," said Balinor, "and more if I had tried harder. This spell reveals everything, if you're good enough at it. I did not look much deeper than I needed to and left some things unexplored since I sensed you wanted to protect your privacy, the name of the village you grew up in for example is something you were trying desperately to conceal."

"I-" started Merlin, not knowing what to say, but Balinor was shaking his head.

"You do not need to tell me why," he said, "your secrets are your own. My point is, Malcolm, this spell is extremely intrusive. If I had wanted to, I could have found out so much I could effectively compel you to do whatever I chose. It is a dangerous spell in the wrong hands, which is why only Dragonlords who have demonstrated themselves to be trustworthy are taught it."

Merlin nodded, still uneasy. It was a spell far more effective than any Legilimancy he had ever encountered.

"Eldron mentioned that the most skilled can see lies and deceit even when they're not using the spell. Can you?" he asked, dreading the answer.

Balinor nodded, looking serious. "I can, and I can see there is a lot you are lying about and concealing, but without using the spell I cannot tell much more than that, and I would not attempt to. This spell is seldom used by Dragonlords, only in extreme situations."

"If you know I'm lying, then how did you now I was trustworthy enough to learn this spell?"

"You are here," said Balinor simply. "Those impure in thought and heart cannot step foot on this Isle whilst the High Council guard it. And you forget, this spell also sees the intentions behind lies. I can sense yours are honourable, and I shall not question it."

Merlin looked away, unnerved. Perhaps Hermione was right and learning from his father was too dangerous. He knew when he was lying, how long could he keep this up?

"Would you like to try it?" Balinor asked.

"Can- can we try something else?" Merlin asked, trying to hide his discomfort.

"Very well," he said, seeing through Merlin's unconvincing attempt to avoid more intrusion. "Has Eldron taught you the spell of location?"

They spent several hours learning this new spell, which Merlin found much easier. Unlike other location spells he had used which normally required something belonging to the subject, this one was far simpler, and required only a thought, a memory of the person, or even just a name, the location of the person appearing in Merlin's memory as clearly as if it was written on a sheet of paper in front of them. Balinor went through a number of people, asking him to track down Melian and Findan, Nechtan, the Druid who guarded the path towards the Isle, the Dragonlords Eldron, Berian and Valos, all now very far from the Isle.

"It is harder to locate those you do not know so well," said Balinor, as Merlin finally located Rhona, who was predictably in the courtyard on the other side of the castle where Niamhrach lay. "And especially if they are in a location unfamiliar to you, when the location will be more vague. "You'll find it much easier with your friends and those with whom you share blood. Try it now. Locate one of them, the girl from last night for example, the one with the brown hair."

Merlin smiled. "I don't need a spell to find Hermione. She'll be in the library."

"The red-haired one then."

Merlin gathered his magic and thought about Ginny, picturing her clearly in his mind, casting the spell inwardly. Almost immediately, he knew.

"She's by the lake, and Harry is with her," he murmured, opening his eyes. "That was quick."

"You know your friends well," said Balinor. "That is good. Your connection with them is strong. That will make it easier when you come to form Bonds with dragons."

"Can they tell I'm looking for them?"

"Other Dragonlords can if they know the spell, and so can dragons, but most people, no, unless they're exceptionally powerful. Some can shield themselves against it, though not easily. Again, this spell is often considered intrusive. Use it sparingly."

Merlin nodded. If only he'd had this spell last year. Morgana and Voldemort would have been defeated long before. Why hadn't Kilgharrah told him about it?

"Finding people you do not know is harder," continued Balinor. "A name can help you track them, but it is also possible to track those of whom you have only vague knowledge of. I once knew a Dragonlord who tracked the man who had cheated him in a game of dice even though he'd been so drunk he only remembered the man had had an eye patch. This takes a long time to develop however. Try it now and see. Tell me the location of a man named Taloth."

Merlin closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate, reigning in the raging magic within him and attempting to tame it. Once he found a semblance of balance, he said the man's name in his mind, willing himself to find him. His mind went hazy for a moment, and everything was confused and muddled. It was like trying to see clearly through a thick fog. After several minutes however, a small gap cleared, and he saw something faintly appearing through the fog.

"He's … somewhere in the Forest of Gir," said Merlin. "I can't see clearer than that."

He opened his eyes, and saw Balinor looking astonished.

"I hadn't expected you to get that far," he said, watching him curiously. "I thought you'd perhaps tell me he was north or here, or somewhere over the mountains. I didn't think you could pin it down so precisely."

"I don't know where in the forest-"

"Still," said Balinor, looking somewhat confused. "That's remarkable. To locate someone you've never met is extremely difficult."

"Who is he anyway?" Merlin asked, feeling uncomfortable.

"He is a woodsman who lives on the eastern edges of the forest," answered Balinor. "He is my mother's nephew."

Merlin looked away hurriedly, trying not to let him see the inevitable deceit that was in his eyes. Balinor's words rung in his ears: You will find it much easier with your friends and those with whom you share blood. This man was his father's cousin. That was why he had found him.

Balinor was still looking at Merlin, questions on his face, but he asked none of them, either respecting Merlin's privacy or knowing he would only be met with lies.

"I do not believe this spell will pose you any difficulty," said Balinor. "It is usually the easiest. The others pose more problems."

"Eldron said you could see someone's destiny with a Dragonlord spell," said Merlin. "And the future. Is that true?"

Balinor raised his eyebrows. "To an extent. Dragonsight can reveal a person's destiny, if you are skilled enough, but even then, interpreting that destiny is troublesome, and so we seldom make use of it. Even the dragons sometimes have difficulty with it. And looking into the future, we also discourage that."

"It seems almost everything you can do is discouraged," said Merlin. "Truth spells, destiny, location."

"Exactly," said Balinor, sounding pleased he had grasped this concept. "These are abilities gifted to us by the dragons. We are not dragons, and so to use them too often would not be right. Dragonlord magic and Dragon Magic should be used sparingly. Most Dragonlords use only their normal magic."

"Then what's the point in having it?"

"Because by discovering it, we are discovering ourselves," said Balinor. "It is a part of who we are. Even if we do not use it, it would be a sin to not know how to use it. Self-control is vital. We must never abuse our gifts."

This didn't fully make sense to Merlin. If he had this power, surely he should use it? How much more powerful would he be when he finally returned to the future? He could fix what was wrong with the world, make Rogers see sense and end the ruthless killing.

A new thought had struck him. "Can this magic bring back the dead?" he asked. Balinor's expression changed.

"What makes you ask that?"

"Just … I mean, how powerful is magic? Can it go against fate?"

Balinor was silent for a long time. "Bringing back the dead," he began, "is something very rarely done."

"It is possible though?"

"Oh, it's possible," said Balinor, and he cast a half glance towards the door that led in the direction of the Inner Sanctum where Merlin guessed the Cup of Life lay. "But never practiced."

He sighed. "Dragon Magic can restore life. If you link with a dragon through the Bond, you will have power enough to bring back the deceased. This is the ultimate abuse of power, however. Dragons see destiny above all else, and to interfere with this is wrong. You cannot force a new destiny upon someone."

"Why not?" asked Merlin. "Are we all stuck with the destinies we were born with? Don't we have any choice? Don't we have any control?"

He suddenly realised he was getting too close to the truth of what had been bothering him so and stopped talking. His hatred of fate and destiny was overwhelming him. If someone was destined to die, couldn't he do something about it? He'd brought back Gaius, and Ginny with the Cup of Life, why couldn't he use Dragon Magic in the future to bring back the dead without erasing the reveal of the magical world?

Because the Cup of Life was the one in control. It only allowed you to save them because it was not their destiny to die yet. By using Dragon Magic you wouldn't be bound the same way. You'd be going against destiny, a voice in his head said to him. He ignored it.

"We cannot force anything in this world," said Balinor, seeing Merlin was not going to say anything further. "I cannot force peace in this time, I must simply allow what is going to happen to happen and have faith that everything will be alright."

You wouldn't say that if you knew what was coming, thought Merlin. If I can make peace in 1999 with Dragon Magic, I will. I'm sick of destiny.

"I think we'd best finish for the day. But first, one last thing. Come," said Balinor, turning to leave the courtyard.

"Where are we going?" asked Merlin, already following him.

"To see an old friend."

A few minutes later, they walked into the courtyard containing Niamhrach. Merlin was relieved to see Rhona had left for some reason. Balinor headed straight towards the emerald dragon, and bowed his head in respect.

"Lady Niamrach."

"Lord Balinor," she said, her voice low and contented. "It has been a while since I have seen you on the Blessed Isle."

"Too long," he said, and he smiled, reaching down and placing his hand on her muzzle, she closed her eyes.

"I am glad you are back."

Balinor turned to Merlin, and gestured for him to come closer, which he did.

"Niamhrach was the first dragon I Bonded with," Balinor said. "Trust in her, in yourself, in the Old Religion itself, and you will find the answers you seek."

Merlin had crouched beside him, and at his encouragement, also reached out and placed a hand on Niamhrach's shining, slightly warm scales. The moment he did so, her eyes opened, and she looked at him. Then her eyes swivelled towards Balinor, who also had his hand on her scales. She looked back at Merlin, and at that moment, he could tell that she knew the truth. Her lips curled slightly, and a small puff of smoke came wafting out.

"Have faith, Malcolm," she said, looking between the two of them knowingly. "All that you need will be given to you. Do not abandon your gifts. Do not abandon your family. You will find your way."

Merlin flinched, and avoided looking at Balinor. Everything was so confusing to him. He was happy at being with his father, but being forced to conceal so much … What was he truly supposed to do with these new-found gifts?

He wished he had enough faith left.

Hours later, Merlin found himself wandering the corridors of the castle, idling before he went down for dinner. As usual, his heart was filled with sadness as he looked around, knowing the next time he would come to the island all of this would be in ruins and the people long dead. He tried to fix his mind on a more agreeable subject, but came up short. Even the things that were making him happy these days were enough to make him despair; a chance to finally get to know his father, yet still remain unknown to him.

A noise from one of the teaching rooms drew his attention, and he entered, looking around for the source of the sound; he had thought everybody except himself had headed to the Great Hall. In the room, sitting on a wooden bench staring out of the window, he found Draco. He sat there alone, face expressionless, hands twisted tightly in his lap. He didn't notice Merlin approaching and jumped when he spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

Draco looked away. "Just thinking."

"About what?" Merlin asked, coming to sit beside him on the bench. Draco looked like Merlin felt.

Draco shook his head. "It isn't important."

"If it's bothering you, it's important," said Merlin. "Tell me, Draco."

Draco hesitated for a moment, before it appeared he dropped his barriers, and everything came spilling out.

"That man last night," he said, looking down at his hands. "Heroc, the one who said there was no danger."

"What about him?"

Draco sighed heavily. "Do you remember when you, me and the Weasley twins came here looking for the Cup of Life?"

"Yes," said Merlin, wondering where this was going.

"We went to the Hall of Gathering, remember? And I saw that crest on the wall that looked like the Malfoy one, and I said I thought it was my ancestor's. I've got Old Magic, and I know I'm descended from Druids, so that means that crest was my ancestor's. My ancestors were at that meeting last night."

"Most likely," said Merlin. "But what-"

"Heroc!" said Draco, his cheeks flushed. "Some of the Druids wear tribal crests on their robes. Heroc was wearing the Malfoy one. He's my ancestor."

"Oh," said Merlin, stunned into silence for a moment. "I – I suppose he is. But why does that mean you're upset?"

Draco looked at him. "Didn't you hear him last night? Didn't you hear the things your father was accusing him of? Bribery, corruption, only looking out for their own and leaving everybody else to suffer … he hated him."

Draco stood up and paced the room, clearly agitated. "One of the reasons I'm so desperate to learn Old Magic and be good at it was because I thought it was the right thing to do," he said. "My family in 1999 have such a dark reputation I'm never going to be rid of it. I'd hoped by learning this magic, I could be more like my ancestors, before the darkness crept in. That one thought had kept me going. And now … now I find out my family has always been corrupt. And it always will be."

Draco finished, and leaned against the wall, his hands shaking. Merlin said nothing for a moment.

"Heroc is just one man of a Druid clan, Draco," Merlin said. "He doesn't speak for them all. Just like your father's actions do not speak for you. There is good in your family, just like there is good in you."

"Good?" Draco scoffed. "Then how come every Malfoy I've ever encountered has been evil? The Blacks are an evil family, but they've got people like Sirius Black, my Aunt Andromeda and Tonks. My family has nothing but darkness."

"And what about you? Aren't you the exception?"

"Please," said Draco. "I'm hardly one of the good guys. Not like Saint Potter and his friends."

"Then what was the point last year in fighting so hard to be accepted?" Merlin said. "In proving that you could be good?"

"I was just fooling myself," said Draco miserably.

"Well, you fooled me as well," said Merlin. "Because there is good in you, even if you want to deny it."

Draco just shook his head. He stared at the floor for a long time, seemingly trying to prepare himself. He took a shuddering breath before speaking, avoiding eye contact with Merlin.

"When you all return to the future, whenever that is," he said, "I want to stay behind."

"What?" said Merlin, standing up. "Why?"

"There's nothing for me in the future," said Draco, looking up. "Here, I can start again. Here, there's no expectations. I can't be one of the good guys, not really, they'll never fully accept me."

"But-"

"It's better than it used to be, of course," he went on, ignoring Merlin. "Weasley doesn't hex me at every opportunity he can, and even Potter is civil to me. But there's too much between us. We'll never be friends. I'm just their former enemy and that's all I'll ever be. They'll always look at me and remember the past."

Merlin stepped closer to him, seeing the misery on his face.

"You can reinvent yourself, Draco, I've done it before. Too often. Who you are inside has never changed, all you changed was the part of yourself that you chose to show to the world. You have things to live for in the future."

"Like what?"

"Your family," said Merlin. "Your parents, I know you still care. And what about Tonks, or Teddy? I thought you said you had a fresh start with him?"

"Yeah, until other people start telling him about my past," said Draco. "He's better off not knowing he's related to someone like me."

"Well, what about the Purge?" Merlin asked. "It's coming soon. You really want to live through that?"

"That's one of the benefits of coming from the future. I'll know what to avoid," said Draco.

"And you think living in hiding, keeping your magic secret for the rest of your life will make you happy?"

"All I know," said Draco, "is that I've been happier here with people I don't know than I ever have been in my own time."

Merlin was rapidly running out of arguments.

"This isn't the answer, Draco," he said. "There can be peace in the future, for all of us."

Draco laughed. "You don't really believe that. You're fighting it. The Old Religion wants you to get this spell and return to the future to erase the Liberator's actions. It wants me to live in a world where everyone hates me and no one trusts me. Neither of us wants to live that way. We're both denying it. How can you criticise me for doing the exact same thing you're doing?"

Merlin had nothing to say, and Draco knew it. He nodded, and turned to leave.

"There are some things we just can't accept," said Draco, standing in the doorway. "You're making your choice to go against fate. I'm making mine."

Then, he was gone.

Merlin stood alone for a while, running the conversation through his mind again and again. Was he denying his fate? Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing if what fate wanted was wrong. Destiny had always told him he would bring about peace, that the Once and Future King would return and help him do it when Albion's hour of need was greatest. Surely that was now? When he returned with all his new powers, wouldn't that actually be fulfilling fate?

He wished Fawkes was with him now, but the phoenix was probably off with Luna somewhere. Not even he was on Merlin's side anymore.

"You know, Merlin," said Ron at dinner, "I think I do see some similarities between you and your Great-Aunt Rhona."

Harry looked up and saw Rhona practically screaming at some younger Druids in the corner of the room. She looked positively terrifying. He laughed at her expression of frustration with the younger Druids, who had obviously just made some huge mistake with some sort of spell.

"Shut up, Ron," said Merlin, not even looking at her. Instead, his eyes were fixed on another point in the room. Harry followed his gaze, and saw Balinor sitting across the room with some of the elders of the Druid clans.

"How were your lessons?" Harry asked. Everyone else looked up, and all had slightly worried expressions on their faces. Well, all except Malfoy, who for some reason wasn't here. Harry's suspicion was growing stronger.

"They were fine," said Merlin, eyes still fixed on his father.

"Fine?" asked Hermione impatiently. "You mean he doesn't suspect anything's up?"

"Oh, he knows something is up," said Merlin. "He knows I'm lying about something."

"What?" said Hermione so loudly several people looked up.

"Don't worry," said Merlin. "He doesn't know I'm his … you know, but he knows I'm lying about something, he just doesn't know what."

"This could be a problem."

"Maybe not," said Harry. "We all knew Merlin was lying about something last year when he was still just Martin Emrys, but we all trusted him anyway."

"Yes, and we found out the truth, Harry!"

"Well, how would he ever even guess Merlin's his son from the future?"

"How did we ever guess Martin was the great Merlin from the past?"

"Hey," said Ron, interrupting their bickering. "I'm the only one who gets to argue with Hermione."

"You don't think he'll figure it out?" asked Ginny.

"No," said Merlin.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that because you want to get to know him? You do realise he can't find out the truth?"

"Of course I know," said Merlin, with an edge to his voice. "It's all I've been thinking about the past twenty-four hours. If I had even the slightest doubt I'd be sitting beside him right now telling him everything I wish I'd told him when I was younger. But no, I'm here. If I wasn't totally aware of my responsibility to not mess up the timeline I wouldn't be." He laughed to himself. "Ironic, isn't it? I can't go and talk to my father like I'm his son because I'd ruin the timeline, yet to change the timeline is actually why we're here in the first place. It makes no sense."

Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him. It reminded him somewhat of his own experiences; of seeing his parents in the Mirror of Erised, of watching his father and his friends in Snape's memory. He had seen them, but had not been able to talk to them, have a conversation with them however desperately he wanted to reach out. Yet, he supposed this was worse. Actually having to interact with him, but not tell him who he was … Harry could only imagine.

He saw similar looks of concern on the faces of those around him. They all felt sorry for Merlin, but none of them knew what to do. Luna especially looked upset. She wanted to help him, they all did. But Merlin was just so confused and conflicted these days, they didn't know how. Merlin had been the one last year keeping them all going, never failing to know what to do next, despite his own doubts and fears. But these days, Merlin was nothing like the strong man they had all come to know. This was just too close to home for him. Literally.

Suddenly, there came a great trumpeting sound and everyone leapt to their feet. It was the signal to let them know there had been another attack, and people began running to the doors of the hall.

"Another one?" Ron asked. "Blimey, at this rate, the Purge will break out any day soon."

The Druid Cenric came in through the hall door and began making his way through the mass of people. His face was pale, and his hands were covered in blood.

"What's going on?" asked Ginny, catching him by the arm as he passed.

He turned to her urgently.

"An attack," he said, breaking free quickly. "I need to find Rhona. What we feared has happened. They've finally started slaughtering us. It's only a matter of time before the Five Kingdoms declare war on magic itself."

Harry stood there dumbstruck. People were now beginning to be killed. The Purge hadn't even started yet and there were fatalities.

He turned to see Merlin standing frozen, staring after Cenric. Everything Merlin had believed about the war pre-Purge was now completely wrong. If there hadn't even been peace in this time, what hope was there for the future?