Merlin's Chosen

Summary: Arthur has slept in Avalon, the otherworldly place just beyond the reach of magic for all but Merlin and his chosen, recovering from the injuries sustained in the battle at Camlann. Years have passed and times have changed and Hogwart's school of Witchcraft and Wizardry has taken it's place on the edge of the Lake of Avalon, unknown to modern witches and wizards. The world is in need of the Once and Future King to protect Albion again but to do that the immortal Merlin, the man that has learned to live backwards, must be there and he is nowhere to be found. It is now the job of Merlin's Chosen. Only, Harry Potter thinks he's going mental.

This is based on the mountains that are around the movie version of Hogwarts and the lake that Merlin takes Freya to in season 2 episode 9.

A/N: I have been sitting on this chapter for a couple of months now and I am not entirely happy with it. But it finishes an arc and gets us to the next one.

I already have the next chapter written and I am going to wait a bit before posting. Probably long enough to get some of chapter 27 written. But I am off for the summer and between getting next term ready (I am an adjunct English Professor. It is amazing what can happen in the 11 years you are writing a fic.) and enjoying my summer, I hope to get a few chapters done so there isn't a year between updates. (Seriously, I don't mean to do that, but things happen.)

Chapter 25:

Merlin stood at the edge of the crowd, watching as the Supreme Mugwump worked the group of Reporters giving them a truncated version of the events that happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament making a point to say that everyone was doing well, except for the Diggory family, of course.

"And Mister Potter is doing well after what he witnessed?" Merlin called from the back of the crowd. Frankly, he shouldn't have been heard, but a bit of magic behind the words and the mention of Harry's name had Dumbledore whipping around to face him.

"As well as he could be after witnessing his classmate's death," he said.

Merlin scoffed. "So not at all, I imagine."

The man's eyes narrowed at him and Merlin stared right back and kept looking until Dumbledore's attention was pulled away by another shouted question.

Merlin sighed and pushed away from the wall, storing the unused notebook in his leather satchel. He knew he should head for England and intervene in Harry's care, but he hadn't been back to the shores of Albion since he left Hogwarts nearly a thousand years before and he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure if he would ever be. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to if Arthur did return.

He left the building and felt his glamor melt away and shook off the last of the tingle he always felt when putting on a different face. Still it was nice to hear about his possible Chosen every once in a while and from a source that wasn't the Daily Prophet.

Merlin bit down the urge to scream knowing he would scare everyone around him. When would Arthur return? When would he see him again? Would he ever? Would anything be bad enough that the fates would let him come back? What would it take?

The no-maj, muggles, normals already blew each other up with a bomb that had the potential to destroy the world and Arthur still slept.

What would it take?

Merlin felt the tears on his face and he roughly wiped them away.

What would it take?

The portraits were muttering amongst themselves as Merlin made his way through the corridors. He was on a mission, but he kept his pace measured and slow. Even then, it didn't take long to hear the shouting. There were three voices. Two male, one female with a rather impressive Scottish accent that seemed to be getting thicker and thicker the more she yelled. Minerva McGonagall, Merlin thought, name supplied by the castle. Impressive woman. Anyone that yells at Dumbledore like that…

One of the portraits caught sight of him and pointed in the direction of the main staircase. He nodded his thanks and followed the voices. The castle was still mostly empty with all the students not due back for another couple of days. Still the castle was alive with the magic of generations of students and teachers and Merlin could feel the stones shivering under his feet.

The Castle wasn't happy.

Neither was Harry and the rest for that matter and Merlin knew they were probably sulking. Arthur certainly was mostly because he could stand behind Merlin looking menacing with a hand on his sword.

Merlin rounded the corner and fell backward to avoid the fighting trio. Now that he was so close he could actually make out what they were fighting about.

"They haven't been seen since this morning!" Professor McGonagall said. "The elves confirmed Harry rushed out of his Godfather's rooms early. The sun had barely risen."

"They haven't left the castle grounds," Dumbledore was saying. "I would know if they did."

Merlin's eyes narrowed and made a note to check Harry and his possessions for tracker spells. He knew the magic of his rooms would confuse the spells, but it didn't hurt to foil the man's plans at any chance he had.

"Then where are they?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No doubt on some harebrained adventure somewhere in the Castle," Professor Snape said. He sounded like he swallowed a lemon at even being there.

Merlin figured that it was time to reveal himself, took a breath and started whistling. It didn't surprise him when he rounded the corner that the trio looked shocked and merely stood there whistling a jig that Gawain had favored while they decided on what reaction they were going to give him.

And again he wasn't surprised when the dour one, Severus Snape, was the first to draw his wand on him.

"Afternoon," Merlin said, offering them a wide smile. "Fine day we are having."

"Indeed, it is. Now that the sun has returned," Professor Dumbledore said.

Merlin resisted the smirk that wanted to peek out at the double meaning of the Headmaster's words.

"We've had many new faces to the grounds of this school," he continued. "Might we have your name to know to whom we are speaking?"

Merlin glanced at the painting he just happened to be standing under and his painted self just gave him a shrug with a smile.

"Considering the Sun's return, I would think that was rather obvious," he said.

Merlin watched as the Headmaster's eyes traveled from his to the portrait and back again. Then again. Merlin marveled at how he could see his mind turn over the information attempting to come to a conclusion that would would work in his world view.

Merlin hoped Dumbledore didn't bother and realize what was going on in front of him had nothing to do with him. Then the Headmaster's shoulders slumped. Looking well beyond his unknowable years.

Merlin snorted. He had lost count right around the Norman invasion. Ish. Or was it the travesty of Henry VIII's court? He honestly couldn't remember.

Fitting.

"Will you at least help him rid the world of Voldemort?" he asked.

"If only to save the lives that he would otherwise take," Merlin said, and honestly, Merlin didn't care about Voldemort or the troubles that the Wizarding World made for themselves.

But he would help Harry fulfill the destiny that others made for him.

"He is the only one who can," Dumbledore said.

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "So it's true."

"What's true?" Minerva McGonagall said, reminding Merlin that others were there.

Merlin glanced over at the potions master, Severus Snape and the man looked murderous. Thankfully, the man was looking at the Headmaster and not Merlin.

"Harry figured it out," Merlin said. "What Voldemort made him that night."

"Remus…" Dumbledore said, a weird mix of a breath and a curse.

"Only confirmed what we figured out," Merlin said. "By the way, binding the Secret. Not cool."

"How then?"

"None of your concern," Merlin said.

Merlin didn't know why. Didn't know why he hesitated in telling the headmaster about the letter and about Regulus. Perhaps because it was tied so close to Mordred and Merlin's own follies, but he had a feeling that Dumbledore wasn't to know.

"Then you know why it has to be Harry," he said.

"No, all I understand is that you raised Harry to be a lamb to the slaughter," Merlin spit back.

Dumbledore recoiled. And Professor McGonagall turned on him.

"What did you do?!" she hissed out.

Dumbledore looked weary and wary at the same time. "Only what needed to be done for the Greater Good."

Merlin snorted, mostly ignoring the other two. "Some greater good."

Now Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape both look murderous and about to commit bodily harm, but if Merlin had to guess, it was for not so different reasons.

"He is my Chosen, Headmaster," Merlin said, finally. "You needn't worry about him anymore."

"Be that as it may," Professor Dumbledore said. "There are things he needs to know. Needs to learn before he can face Lord Voldemort again."

Merlin scoffed. "As if!" Merlin surged forward and was surprised by the lack of response by the other two professors. "You have done that boy more harm than anyone, and that is including his relatives."

Dumbledore flinched.

"Oh, yes. I may not have been on the Island, but I have my ways to know what happens to my Chosen. Consider your duty to the boy done."

Merlin didn't wait for the reply, just turned and walked away. He knew they weren't done. Harry certainly wasn't done with the man, but for the moment they could work and plan without having to worry about him.

Either way, he didn't miss how the two other professors laid into the headmaster as soon as he disappeared around the corner.

And if the corner disappeared along with him, that was neither here nor there.

"Was there blood?" Sirius asked as soon as the door closed behind Merlin.

"There wasn't when I left, but Minerva and Severus were looking quite murderous," Merlin said with a quiet thank you to the house elf for the plate of food that was shoved into his hand.

The rest were just finishing lunch when Merlin returned and surprisingly, Sirius was looking a little better from the revelation that Regulus was alive.

"Why would Snape want to murder the headmaster because of me?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape," Remus corrected. It seemed more out of habit than actual care. "But know, Harry, that Severus has a vested interest that you survive." A strange look crossed his face.

"Part of the Secret?" Harry asked, sounding resigned.

Remus could only nod.

To which, Harry sighed.

"Don't get me wrong, Harry" Merlin said between bites. "I wanted to do something, but the castle… well, the magic associated with being Headmaster is a bit complicated and I wouldn't have been able to… actively harm him."

"Even as a founder?" Sirius asked.

Merlin nodded shoving a huge bite of salad into his mouth. It took a moment of chewing before he could say, "Like I said, complicated and I am sure it has gotten more complicated as the years have past."

Merlin looked up and shouted, "Find anything else of note while I was gone?"

Morgana poked her head out. "No, but I think I might have a lead into how we can banish Mordred's soul to the other side. Unfortunately, you don't have the right book here."

"Are you sure I have it?" Merlin called.

"If not, then I do back at my cabin," Morgana said.

"You call it a cabin, but that place is anything but," Leon's voice said from somewhere deep in the library and Merlin snorted.

"Morgana lived as a princess for most of her young life. Would you expect anything less?" Merlin said.

Morgana shot him a rude gesture and disappeared into the library making Merlin snort again only to start coughing after inhaling a bit of food. Sirius from his place nearby leaned over and started smacking him on his back while Remus poured him glass of water. Nodding his thanks to both Merlin took a sip then nodded again to let Sirius know if was alright and he could stop pounding on his back. Harry merely watched and marveled at how human Merlin seemed in that moment.

For the longest time Merlin was a mythical person. A magical person from yesteryear, if he existed at all. Now he sat in front of Harry, choking on a bit of bread.

Surreal didn't even begin to cover it.

As soon as Merlin got his coughing under control Harry said, "So what now? The Headmaster knows you're here and will try to recruit you, so how can we do what we need to do if he's involved."

Merlin waved off the concern and stuff another bit of bread in his mouth. Though this time carefully chewing and swallowing before answering.

"He won't bother," he said. "Let's just say that the Headmaster and I have reached an agreement. You are mine to teach now."

"What could you possibly have on him that he is allowing that?" Sirius said.

"Just because I wasn't on the Isle doesn't mean I don't know things," Merlin said trying to sound mysterious.

"So you actually took the mail the Goblins sent you?" Leon said, plopping himself rather unceremoniously in one of the conjured wingback chairs.

"When it could find me," Merlin said. "Which usually meant it was some vitally important they wanted me to know."

"Is that how you knew stuff about me?" The question was timid and it took a second for Merlin to ascertain what Harry might have actually asked.

"I had a feeling that the trunk appeared to someone. It tends to do that when Freya's water vial appears," Merlin said. "And I knew enough about my chosen's family to know who the trunk went to, but I did not know anything about your relatives until I visited Gringotts a few days ago."

Merlin sighed.

"If I had known, truly understood what was going on, there wouldn't have been a chance that you ever knew them, and I am sorry for that," Merlin said.

"We all made mistakes that night," Sirius said. And Harry shot him an annoyed look that let Merlin know it was an old argument.

"But I do know them. I lived with them for over ten years and, yes, that time has left it's mark, but I am safe from them now and I don't ever have to go back," Harry said. He flashed the determined look between the assembled adults and nodded firmly.

"Now that we got that out of the way," Morgana said not unkindly but in a way of breaking the tension. "What about this?"

Merlin glanced down at the spell array and nodded along to his fellow sorcerer's explanation. It might work but they wouldn't know for sure until it happened. Until Mordred and by extension, Voldemort, made their final move.