A/N: Well, we've reached the end. The final chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story over the months. It's about a year since I started it, and I'm really grateful to those of you still taking time to review. Love you all! :)
"Wait, you're telling me you were actually on the Isle of the Blessed?" George was asking.
Harry sighed, and resigned himself to explaining it all over again. About half of those who had handed over memories to the dragons had regained them, but the others, waiting their turn, were full of questions.
"Yes," he said. "Kilgharrah sent us back."
"In order to get this spell to turn back time?"
"Yes."
"Why couldn't he just send you back to the day the Liberators attacked?"
"Why don't you just wait until you get your memories back?" Ron grumbled. He was sitting opposite the two of them in Grimmauld Place's drawing room.
"But how can we 'get back' memories of things that never happened, things that happened weeks from now?" Fred asked, face screwed up in confusion.
"Ask Kilgharrah," Ron said. "I don't get it either."
The twins nodded, though still looking both confused and amazed. The Order had been recalled to Grimmauld Place, and all day people had been wandering in and out, going to Hogwarts to relive their memories in Dumbledore's Pensieve. They came back dazed and in complete shock. No one quite seemed to believe it had happened at all. Harry couldn't imagine how bizarre this must feel for them all; to watch personal memories of something that never happened, and never would happen.
Kingsley was at the Ministry, and had set his (very confused) Aurors out to round up the Liberators at the safe house Verax had told Merlin about. Verax himself was in custody at the Ministry. They weren't quite sure what to do with him.
As though knowing what Harry was thinking about, Hermione turned to him.
"What will they do with Verax though?" she said. "They can't put him in Azkaban for a crime he hasn't committed yet, can he?"
"But he did," Ron pointed out, "technically at least. The Liberators did try to put their plan into action. We only stopped it from working. They did try and break the law."
"What do you think, Merlin? Merlin?" said Hermione. Merlin was sitting in a chair by the window. He was fast asleep. Harry and Ron exchanged a grin. Merlin was almost never caught asleep by anyone.
He noticed Fred and George were also both grinning to each other. Hermione saw this however.
"Don't you dare," she scowled.
"Don't what?"
"You know what," she said. "He has literally been chasing the Liberators all over Europe. Let him get some rest."
"We wouldn't have done anything!"
"Yes, you would," Merlin said, opening his eyes. He stretched and sat up straight. "I'm not stupid enough to fall completely asleep in the same room as the Weasley twins. Thanks anyway, Hermione."
"Did you hear what we were talking about?" Ron asked as Hermione smiled smugly.
"No, but I can guess," he said. He sighed. "I'm not sure how to move forwards from this. I never gave it much thought. All I focused on was stopping them. But we can't just hope to pretend that it never happened. The roots are still there. People are still arguing over the pros and cons for revealing ourselves to the Muggles, with or without Verax. He's stirred something up that won't go back down easily."
"People wouldn't believe us if we told them what had happened," Harry said. "Not with everyone doubting us all. If they don't trust Kingsley, then they don't trust me or you."
Merlin looked thoughtful, but before they could continue the discussion, the door opened and Remus walked in, fresh from Hogwarts. He spotted Harry straight away, and crossed the room towards him, hugging him tightly as he did so, leaving Harry a little breathless.
"I'm so proud of you," he said, pulling back, a smile on his lined face. "That's twice within the same year you've saved our world from complete destruction. How do you do it, Harry?"
"I have some help," Harry said, blushing, and looking at Ron, Hermione and the others.
Remus just continued smiling, and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I can't quite believe everything that happened," he said. "You'll have to tell me all about the Isle of the Blessed. I'm quite envious."
"Course I will," Harry said.
He noticed Hermione had pulled her chair closer. "I think there's something I might have to show you, Remus," she said. She waved her wand, and the large bulky bag she had brought with her from the Isle of the Blessed flew to her hand.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," said Ron, ducking as the bag flew over his head. "You trying to knock us all out?"
Hermione ignored him and dove into the bag. Harry could see that she had magically enlarged it as she had the beaded bag she had used last year, and several large books were sitting inside. She pulled out one particularly large one.
"Blimey, Hermione," said Fred as she dumped it on the table before them. "You didn't steal that from the Druids, did you?"
"Of course not," Hermione frowned, and Fred nodded.
"Good, because that would be too hard to believe."
"The library there was filled with centuries of knowledge that had died out with the Old Religion," she said, flicking through the book. "And Merlin said it would be okay to bring some of it back to the future so we could study it. He's got his Dragonlord book after all now. Anyway, I duplicated some of the more incredible books I found, and some others that I couldn't read but looked important and kept them."
"I'm actually impressed," said George, peeking in the cavernous bag.
Hermione finally reached the page she was looking for, and hesitated before showing it to Remus. The pages, crisp and new despite being thirteen hundred years old bore an illumination of a man. Before their eyes, the illustration changed into a wolf, and then back again. Small sentences of writing in Ancient Runes and another unknown script popped up labelling the drawing at various points. Remus stared at it unblinkingly.
"The whole book is like this," she said in a rush. "It has loads about werewolves and other human-animal transformations. Half of it is in Ancient Runes, but the rest, including most of the stuff on werewolves is in a language I can't read. But there's loads here. I mean, surely some of it might be useful?" She glanced at Merlin, who had stepped forward to read the pages. "I didn't want to say anything back then when I found it; we all had our minds on other things. But, do you think there could be something here in Old Magic that could help Remus?"
"You told me once that Old Magic had no known cure for lycanthropy," Remus said to Merlin, though still staring at the continuously transforming illustration.
"None in my time," Merlin said, pulling the book closer. "But this is before my time. Maybe there's something here that has long been forgotten." He turned the pages, eyes skimming over the words on the page, mouthing the words as he went. He began to smile. "I don't want to get your hopes up, Remus. There may be no cure here. But at the very least, based on what I can read here, we may understand it better. Maybe we can find a way of helping you or others like you."
"Even a little bit would help," Remus said, meeting his gaze. "We know almost nothing about it as it is. Any help you could give … I'd be eternally grateful. Even more so than I already am for everything you've done for us. And you," he said, turning to Hermione, a huge smile on his face that seemed to strip away the years from his face. "You are by far the most brilliant student I have ever taught, Hermione. Never lose that thirst for learning. I'll always be grateful to you for this."
Hermione flushed crimson, but she looked pleased.
"Forget Lupin," George said, grabbing the bag and rummaging deep inside it. "Any spells here for re-growing ears?"
"Are you sure about this?" Kingsley said to him for the hundredth time, but Merlin nodded. It was now almost a week after the Muggle election. Kingsley had successfully managed to capture every liberator involved in the plot and also used his influence to have the Muggle election declared invalid and ordered a return to the polls. Rogers was not too happy with that turn of events, but Merlin was, after personally assuring himself that every aspect of Liberator influence over the Muggle election had been eradicated. The only issue was now the wizarding world.
Kingsley, at Merlin's request had called a press conference in the Atrium of the Ministry, bringing reporters from all over Britain, Europe and indeed the world. They were now in a small antechamber off the Atrium preparing for the media onslaught.
"You know what you're doing?" Kingsley asked again. He was not especially happy that Merlin had not been particularly forthcoming about what he was going to do.
"Yes, trust me," Merlin said. He stopped closer to the Minister and smiled. "I know you might find that difficult after everything that happened. I wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything I said and did before the attack. I was irrational and foolish. I should have listened to you."
Kingsley sighed and shook his head. "I do trust you, Merlin," he said. "There is no need to apologise. You did what you thought was necessary, as did I. And when you made the wrong choice, you were big enough to admit it and you helped to make things right again. I am grateful to you for that. There are no hard feelings."
"Good," Merlin grinned. He took a deep breath. "Well, we'd best get out there then, hadn't we? That includes you, by the way."
This last comment was directed at the figure skulking in the corner. Verax scowled at him. "Must we do this?"
"You agreed to it," said Merlin in a warning tone. "Don't back out now. I thought you realised how important this was?"
"I do, but the humiliation-"
"Is entirely of your own doing," said Kingsley unsympathetically. "Come."
Verax's scowl deepened. He did not look as terrible as he had done after Merlin's trip into his mind, but he did not look good either. He was a shadow of a man now. Merlin had tried to read his aura, but saw only a confusion of guilt, stubborn pride and relentless questioning. Whether he truly understood what he had done, Merlin still wasn't sure.
The three men left the room to a media frenzy. As soon as they appeared, flashes of light and puffs of smoke greeted their senses, as did a roar of voices and questions. Merlin did not look at any of them until he had reached the podium at the head of the crowd. Kingsley stepped forwards to speak first.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, the crowd immediately falling silent. "I have called you here on a very urgent matter. One week ago, members of the Order of the Phoenix managed to foil an attack of the most serious nature from the Liberator group, led by this man, Cicero Verax. If the Liberators had succeeded, many hundreds if not thousands of Muggles and wizards would have perished in the most brutal way imaginable. The exact circumstances of how this happened are almost unbelievable, but you all deserve to know the truth, even if you find it hard to comprehend."
Kingsley then launched into an explanation of the events surrounding the attack, and Merlin watched the crowd's reactions. At first there were eager curiosity, then shock, horror, and then scepticism and disbelief from some. Quills rapidly crossed parchments trying to record every detail. Merlin said nothing, and Verax stood there staring at the ground, though out of guilt, shame or petulance, Merlin wasn't sure.
When Kingsley was done, there was a flurry of questions, which Kingsley answered patiently. After half an hour, he stepped backwards. "Any further questions must wait," he said. "Now, the most important part of proceedings must take place. Merlin desires to speak to you."
Merlin took Kingsley's place and was momentarily blinded by the flashing of cameras. He took a deep breath before beginning.
"I know many of you will doubt who I am," he said, noting that the room was now deathly quiet. "Many of you believe that I am an imposter, many countries have denounced me, but I am not about to try and offer you further proof. I understand your scepticism, I understand your frustrations, but that is unimportant. What is important though, is the disaster that has just been narrowly avoided." He surveyed the room. "I cannot explain to you all the importance of understanding exactly what happened. You will all hopefully never know that despair and level of suffering. The world was burning, I saw it and you all have a duty now to try and stop it from ever happening again."
He saw a few sceptical looks. "I could make you believe me," he said honestly. "I could force myself into your minds and make you relive my memories, let you see for yourself what happened. But you would all merely accuse me of fabrication. It doesn't matter if you believe what happened or not. What did happen wasn't something new. The things I saw across the globe a few weeks ago have happened before. All though history we have persecuted each other, Muggles against Muggles, wizards against wizards, siblings against siblings. We as human beings have not learned. Take it from someone who has seen it all, disputes arising, being forgotten about, and then revived centuries later in a new context with no understanding of what came before. This must end."
His audience were rapt with attention now. "The Long Separation is something which has always pained me," he said, trying to let them see just how truthful he was being. "Ever since the moment I saw the International Statute of Secrecy signed I have detested it. I have always hated the fact that we have been separate from our Muggle brethren. As a Half-Blood who grew up entirely around Muggles, how could I not? But I never saw the good in it. I was blind to its necessity because of my own desires. I still hate the fact that it exists, but it is necessary, because I have seen what would happen if it were not in place. We are not ready for reuniting with Muggles. Only last year, a Half-Blood raised with Muggles like myself was running around killing his own people because of his own twisted hate. He may be an extreme example, but prejudice still exists within our society. Even those of us who embrace Muggles and Muggle-Borns are ignorant of their ways and treat them like children who need our guidance. We are not benevolent beings, and we are not merciful masters. We need to once again regard Muggles as true equals before we could ever hope to join them once more. One day, we will be ready. I won't be here for that, and neither will you. What we can do, is lay the foundations for that peace, here and now. One day, we will be ready, and so will they."
He stepped away from the podium, noticing that the room was still silent, as though all bound in complete shock. Merlin motioned for Verax to step up, which he did, if grudgingly. He cleared his throat and began to speak, though his alluring tone had been replaced with one of extreme fatigue.
"Merlin has shown me what the consequences of my actions would have been," he said, staring downwards rather than at the audience. "I believe what I saw was true, and regret my course of action." He began to shuffle his feet. "My … my motives were wrong. I was entirely mistaken in what I wanted to achieve. I never wanted that level of suffering. The people that died are still with us, but Merlin and the others who retain their memories still remember that suffering, and I doubt any of them will forgive me any time soon, so in a way, I still carry the weight of those deaths with me." He sighed heavily, looking up to the crowd wearily. "I am a proud man," he said. "I would not be standing here before you admitting my faults if I did not truly regret what I did. I was foolish, and it took Merlin to make me realise that. What he says is true. Peace cannot be made through actions like this. I am one of those he refers to; I have never truly understood Muggles. That is a fault we all share. Something that must be fixed."
He turned to glance at Merlin here, and for the first time, Merlin truly saw the remorse in his eyes. "I now face time in Azkaban, time I will serve without protest," he said, hanging his head. "I speak now to all my former supporters. Do not pursue this course of action. Listen to Merlin and Minister Shacklebolt. Countless lives depend on it. That is all I have to say."
He moved away from the podium, shuffling his feet, and Merlin and Kingsley also left, despite the clamouring of the reporters who had broken their combined silence. Kingsley motioned to some nearby Aurors to escort Verax away which they did wordlessly. Kingsley led Merlin back to the antechamber, where they closed the door against the noise of the crowd.
"Do you think any of them will listen?"
"I hope so," Merlin said, collapsing in a chair. "Some of them won't, but I have faith that common sense will prevail. Eventually."
"You have more faith than I do," Kingsley said, coming to sit opposite him. "How can you trust so after everything you have seen over the centuries?"
Merlin smiled. "You forget, Minister," he said. "That as well as centuries of torture and suffering, I have also seen centuries of the best of humankind, of kindness, compassion and mercy. There's always hope in the world, it's just harder to see at certain times. The world will never truly be at peace, not in my lifetime, but I'm more than happy to live in it the way it is now. There is hope for the future now. And I'm going to trust it."
He leaned back in his chair. "I spent yesterday in Azkaban with Draco Malfoy visiting his father. They'll never be the way they were, but there is hope. Who would ever have thought a Malfoy would risk so much for the life of Muggles? If there's one thing I've learned, it is that nothing is ever hopeless."
The party in the Gryffindor Common Room was in full swing when Harry eventually tried to duck away. He was ecstatic with happiness, and not just at accomplishing everything he had went back in time to do. It was now several weeks later, and he had just succeeded in leading the Gryffindor Quididtch team to victory in the House Cup in his last year as Captain. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but Harry was deliriously happy nonetheless. It was the small things in life that mattered the most, he decided. This was how his life always should have been; focusing on school and sports like any other normal kid instead of fighting for his life all the time. He'd never have a normal life, but this was as close as it came.
The party had become increasingly raucous, so Harry found some quiet refuge in the corridors of the seventh floor, casting a quick Old Magic spell over himself to hide. No one would miss him; Ron and Ginny were as much the stars of the team as he was, and were being thoroughly pampered by the rest of the House. Carried by a whim, he allowed his feet to take him on a meandering path through the corridors until he reached a portrait of a magnificent castle: Camelot. He stared at it intently, deciding that his opinion when he had first seen the city itself was right; the portrait did not quite capture its glory, its magnificence or its importance.
He felt a presence drawing near, and did not feel in the least surprised to find that it was Merlin. He came and stood behind him.
"Nice match," Merlin said.
"You were watching?"
"Of course I was. Remember, I helped you get to this position despite not sitting on a broomstick for about two hundred years."
"Oh yeah, I forgot," Harry said, smiling as he remembered Zacharias Smith's face when he'd realised he was playing against Merlin. "Thanks for that by the way."
"No problem," Merlin chuckled. "It was worth it. Now that Voldemort's gone there's no pressure to become an Auror, you know. You could join a professional team."
"Voldemort's gone but there's still bad people out there," said Harry, shaking his head. "I can help stop them, especially now with my Old Magic."
"There will always be evil people out there, Harry," Merlin said, fixing his eyes on the portrait. "That doesn't mean we should stop pursuing our dreams. You've done more than enough."
"But what about Old Magic?"
"I'm working on it," he replied. "I'll be starting to teach it here in September remember, as well as the classes I run at the Ministry. Kingsley's arranged with the International Confederation of Wizards to have other countries send specialists to learn from me and then teach others in their own countries."
"That's a lot of work."
"I spent thirteen hundred years doing virtually nothing, it's time I put some work in," Merlin laughed. "I need to keep active in my old age."
"Do you think it will work?" Harry asked, turning away from the painting. "Have the Liberators and all the other doubters been put off?"
"I don't know," he said, sighing heavily. "The Liberators have disbanded, but they're still out there, disgruntled and confused, a bit like the death Eaters I suppose. And there are those who do not believe. It'll be a constant battle to keep the peace, like always."
"You never catch a break, do you?" Harry said, but Merlin just laughed.
"That's what I've always thought," he said, "but I don't realise how lucky I am. I'm mortal, I have friends once again, I'm better connected with the dragons than I've ever been, I even have some of the knowledge of the Old Religion restored including information about my own people and maybe even ways to cure people like Remus who Modern Magic has failed. I managed to get to know my father for the first time, and above all, I've come to peace with myself."
"So you're okay with the fact that you won't get to see a time of peace here again?" harry asked.
"Yes," Merlin said. "Because it's enough to know that there will be one again. And remember, there are still prophecies yet to be fulfilled. Arthur was the Once and Future King, he will return one day. He's been here the entire time in Avalon guiding me and helping me try to create peace within the Wizarding World, and when he returns to the Muggle world, I will be there in Avalon to help him. Only when the two worlds are at peace with themselves can peace be created between the two. When that day comes, we'll both be there."
Harry just stared at him, amazed at his faith. Merlin turned away from the portrait and began walking down the corridor, Harry at his side.
"True peace may not yet exist in this time," he said, "but I can create my own happiness here, my own time of peace. And that's an opportunity I intend to take."
They walked together down the corridor and eventually back to Gryffindor Tower, where they were both met with cheers and were dragged into the centre of the party. Harry laughed more than he had in a long time, and he saw Merlin doing the same.
Merlin was right. He remembered Dumbledore saying something: "It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated." This struggle would always exist, but that just made moments like these more precious. World peace was perhaps a far distant dream, but inner peace was far more important.
They were both happy, completely and utterly. And it was a long time since either of them could have said that.
A/N: Thanks again to all of you! :)
To be honest, I lost my passion for this story about half-way through and it's still my least favourite of the three I've written in this series. I even started writing another HP fic and returning to another I abandoned years ago, but I just couldn't leave this unfinished. I hope you enjoyed it. I don't know if I'll be writing another in this series; I don't think there's anything else that needs to be added, and even if there was, I wouldn't write it for a while. I'd welcome suggestions however :)