Ooooh boy. This one was fun. And by that I mean fun for me, not fun for you.

Enjoy ;)

Chapter 3 - Happy Birthday to You

Today was the day.

It was his tenth birthday. And that meant that he was getting to spend a whole week with his brother.

Harry had bought a trunk from Hogsmede and packed it with what little he owned. It was mostly owl-ordered clothes and a few books he'd taken from the school Library (and no matter what Helena said, it wasn't stealing, not when he was going to bring them all back with him a week later. Besides, it was the summer holidays, it wasn't as if he was taking the books away from students who would need them), Harry didn't have much else to his name.

But on the bright side, it meant that he didn't have nearly as much trouble as he thought he might dragging his suitcase all the way to the Headmaster's office on his own.

Well, not exactly on his own. Helena was escorting him, making a rare appearance in the light of day (not that she would be able to help him carry a suitcase). Harry thought that that meant she would miss him too.

"Is there a way I can send you a letter?" he asked curiously. "I know that the owls are smart and they can recognise names and people, but does that work for ghosts too?"

She smiled softly at him, shaking her head gently. "No, little one," she told him. Harry usually hated when she called him that (she technically wasn't even a whole ten years older than him, so he couldn't be that little), but this time he didn't feel like she was making fun of him when she called him that. She didn't sound teasing, she just sounded sad. "But it is only a week," she said practically, "and this way you can save all of your stories for when you are back."

"But what if I just set the address as Hogwarts? Then you can still get the letter, right? Intercept the owl or something before it just gets delivered straight to the Headmaster or whoever's here?" he pressed.

"Harry," Helena said, a chastisement probably on the tip of her tongue. But in the end she just sighed. "Save your stories, it is only a week. And besides, it is not as if I can write or send you a letter in return. Sending a letter will not provide you with any real social interaction that you can benefit from as you will receive nothing in reply, but it does risk exposing our association to prying eyes."

"But . . . it's not like it's a real secret is it? I mean, all of the portraits already know, it's not like we're really hiding when we're exploring the castle," he said, confused at her caution at the risk of being found out.

"That is different," she said curtly, her voice going hard, losing all the gentleness she had started their conversation with. "I have their loyalty. They will not report my comings and goings to any other. And they have no reason to try and manipulate or coerce us into following their agenda."

"I don't understand," Harry admitted softly. "Who would . . ."

"Anyone. Everyone," she answered sharply. "There are some in this world who will find a way to weaponise everything you do. Every choice you make, everything you do, even the smallest thing, tells them more and more about who you are. And the more they understand you the easier it will be for them to use you. Even something as innocent as a friendship can be twisted into something that can be used against you," she warned.

Harry didn't really understand what she meant, and yet he could not help but feel shaken. He did not like how their conversation had twisted it's way on to this subject, whatever it was.

It reminded him strongly of the conversation he had had with Morgana, Arthur's sister, about the 'unwitting influence' he held. Not that the topics were in any way similar, but that they left him feeling wrong-footed and off kilter. Like they were exposing a side of the world to him that he'd never had to worry about before.

"But, and no offence Helena, you're a ghost, what could they possibly want from you? And I'm just a kid," he protested, despite Morgana's words echoing in his head . . . 'Your opinion also holds weight as the Boy Who Lived. I know you don't think so, but that doesn't matter to them. To them you're a symbol.' . . . 'You're a leader, whether you like it or not!'. "It's not like either of us matter," he said stubbornly.

However, the look she gave him was pure disappointment, and it made something inside Harry ache. "You may ignore whatever you wish, but lying to yourself will only ever be a weakness, Harry. Do not give them something more to exploit. You may be a child, but you are not naive, little one." Harry pushed down the burst of shame that her words induced.

"That aside," she continued, "I have haunted this castle almost as long as it has existed. The information I carry, not just on the castle itself but on those who have walked through her halls, the discoveries made within her walls, the knowledge long forgotten by many, is vast."

"But Hogwarts is just a school," Harry said, pushing away any thoughts he held on the first half of what she had said, trying to ignore her disappointment in him, and the disappointment it had evoked in himself. "Why would anyone care what happens in a building full of children?"

"Hogwarts is a monument of the British wizarding world, just as much as the ministry itself," she began to explain. "Perhaps, even more so. This ministry has not yet stood for even three hundred years, and yet Hogwarts has housed almost every witch and wizard in Britain for nigh the last thousand years. I'm sure it is difficult for one so young to grasp how long this school has stood, to understand its importance to the culture of our people. But beyond that, the information that has been carried through these halls for so many generations . . . it is beyond dangerous information in the wrong hands. I have been tricked before into sharing something I should not have, and I have seen it tainted with the darkest of magics. They cannot harm me, for I am already dead. But I am self aware enough to know that a threat to your person would convince me to share whatever was asked of me. So you will not send a letter that could be so easily seen by just anyone who happened to be in this castle."

"O- okay," Harry agreed haltingly. "But the only people in the school right now are Filch and the professors . . . surely you don't think . . ."

"You mean the very same man who ordered you to be left with relatives who abused you? The caretaker who talks about how much he wishes he was allowed to beat the children who misbehave? Or, perhaps, the ex-Death Eater who -"

"I'm sorry, the what?!"

No. No way. Death eaters couldn't be working at Hogwarts. Surely no one who had supported a mass murderer would be hired to teach in a school full of children. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't have made the case about Harry being safest at the castle if one of his teachers was someone who used to work for his parents' murderer.

"No, that's - that's impossible," he said disbelievingly.

"Albus Dumbledore has his own agenda. And while it does involve keeping you safe, it also involves keeping Severus Snape close," Helena warned.

Harry thought he might be sick. He needed to leave. He needed to get to Merlin and he needed to never come back here again. Surely the old man didn't have the power to keep him here with a Death Eater? If Harry contacted the ministry, they must have some sort of child services. He could ask Gaius . . . the man might not be able to take Harry in but surely he would help him?

He had a week. A week away from the castle and away from Dumbledore. A week away from his manipulations and his oversight. A week to make sure he wouldn't have to come back here.

But . . . Helena.

"That's it, little one, listen to the sound of my voice," Harry heard her say distantly. It sounded quiet over the noise of his own gasping breaths. "Just try to breathe, Harry, I'm trying to help you but I'm afraid I haven't taken a breath of my own in quite some time."

It startled a laugh out of him, and that was enough of a shock to break the cycle of gasps he had found himself stuck in. "I'm sorry," he said, his breaths coming in slower now, but no less heavy.

"No, it is I who must apologise; it was careless of me to say such things. I . . . I had not meant to cause you such distress," she said softly. She looked contrite, her face was mostly unreadable, but in her eyes was remorse. Her hands were clasped in front of her, but twitching as if she wanted to reach out towards him, as if she was restraining herself.

"It's true though, isn't it?" he asked helplessly, "Snape is a death eater." Well at least that explained his previously inexplicable hatred of Harry. He had never understood why a man he had never even spoken to before glared at him so much. But it made sense that he'd hate Harry, since Harry was famous for killing his old master.

"Was a death eater," Helena corrected gently. "Albus Dumbledore is a calculating man, but he would not stoop so low as to hire a man who still carried the beliefs of the Dark Lord. Especially not in a place where he could sway so many children down the wrong path. I simply wished to caution you not to be so trusting."

"I understand," Harry said evenly, though he wasn't sure that he did.

"I do not mean to frighten you so," she told him. "You are safe at Hogwarts, Albus can be trusted with that much, but do not believe that he has your best interests at heart in all things. Above all, Albus Dumbledore is a chess master, and in his eyes we are all his pawns."

"But then who is he playing against?" Harry asked, swallowing back his fear. No matter what Helena said, Harry didn't feel safe at Hogwarts. Not when it was under the rule of Albus Dumbledore.

But Helena didn't answer his question. "Come," she instructed, ushering him forward as much as she could without the capability to touch him. "We're running late now, and your brother will be getting worried if you keep him waiting to see you for much longer."

Harry nodded numbly, letting himself be carried forwards towards the Headmaster's office, despite the sudden fear he felt towards stepping inside that room. But it didn't matter. He couldn't let the old man see. He couldn't let him know that Harry didn't trust him. If the headmaster knew that Harry had no intention of returning to the castle once he was away, then Dumbledore would never let him out.

"Bye, Helena," he said softly. He didn't know when he might next see her. She said that she wasn't bound to Hogwarts, so maybe she would come and visit him? He hoped so. And he hoped she would forgive him for not saying goodbye properly.

"Don't look so glum, I'll be seeing you in only a week. Besides, I'm sure the time will fly by once you are reunited with your brother." Harry nodded, and luckily the smile that overtook his face at the thought of seeing Merlin again in only a few moments was a genuine one. He let the emotion carry him through as he stepped forward to knock on the Headmaster's door, watching Helena drift away, as to not be seen.

Gaius hadn't seen his boy this excited since they were living a whole other life. It brought an old man great comfort to see such unadulterated joy on Merlin's face. The child hadn't been able to sit still all morning, despite the fact that the young Mister Potter wouldn't be arriving until the early afternoon.

Gaius saw to it that Merlin directed all of that restless energy towards practicing his magic.

It had only been a week so far since the boy had started exercising his gifts regularly and with any semblance of intention, but Gaius had already seen him progress in leaps and bounds. Some things would never change. And when it came to magic, Merlin would always be a prodigy.

He had progressed past pushing and pulling objects towards and away from him within the first two days. After that, he moved on to juggling them in the air, watching them dance in front of him, a carefree smile on his face that he could never afford to have had back in Camelot. Although Gaius had drawn the line when the cat had started levitating, batting at one of the garden Gnomes that floated above her.

There was one morning where Gaius purposefully tipped a jug of orange juice off the table, just to watch it halt in midair, time freezing around the jug and the juice keeping it all in place while Merlin's shocked face looked on. Up until the second that reality finally registered and it dropped to the floor as if nothing had ever halted it. Merlin didn't understand that he had just stopped time (albeit only a very small pocket of it), but then again Gaius couldn't say that he had understood the gravity of it the first time it happened in Camelot either.

The child just thought that his magic had caught it. And while that would have been a fair assumption if it was just the jug, liquid didn't quite work like that. The juice was a fluid, or at least it was supposed to be. Any other wizard would have caught the jug, and used a separate spell to siphon the liquid back into it before any of it hit the ground. Afterall, it would be impossible to catch every single molecule of the juice in place. The only solution would be to create something similar to a shield charm but concave rather than the convex shape a shield charm would usually take, in order to gather the liquid rather than deflect it. Which of course, would look very different than the jug and juice which had been frozen mid-splash.

He was dragged back to the present, and out of thoughts of his all-powerful ward, by the whoosh of the fireplace.

Gaius wasn't sure what he was expecting of the Boy Who Lived, but considering the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth was a clumsy stringbean with more ears than body-fat, the short waif of a boy who stumbled out of his fireplace shouldn't have been too surprising. However, the panicked look on his face certainly was.

Gaius saw the very moment that Merlin realised. His face turned from a blinding grin to some sort of grim determination and protectiveness that he had only ever previously seen when Prince Arthur's life had been on the line.

"Harry?" Merlin asked urgently, rushing to sweep the smaller boy up into a fierce hug, as though physically shielding him from whatever had put such a distraught expression on the boy's face. "What is it? What happened?"

But the child just shook his head, burrowing further into the comfort that Merlin was providing him.

Gaius decided that there was not much he could do to be of use while the child was not talking about whatever had upset him.

So, naturally, he went to make some tea.

He heard quiet voices coming from the living room, but it mostly sounded like Merlin murmuring reassurances over and over. Until, "He's a Death Eater," came Harry's solemn voice, "Snape's a Death Eater."

Merlin's sharp intake of breath cut through the silence that followed. "Did he hurt you? Did he try to attack you while the school was empty?!"

"No, I haven't seen him all summer," the boy replied, his voice sounding hollow. "Someone told me . . . but I trust her, she would never make something like this up," he promised.

"Are you certain?" Merlin asked carefully. Gaius could practically hear the sound of cracking as Merlin walked on eggshells so as not to accuse his brother's newest friend of being a liar. "That's . . . a really strong accusation to make without any proof. And surely Dumbledore wouldn't hire someone like that to work with children. I mean, he said that there were wards at the school meant to keep people like him out, surely if he was a Death Eater he wouldn't be able to come and go from the school?"

"Look," Harry said, sounding frustrated, "I don't have any proof, but it's the truth, I know it."

"Harry, I understand -"

"Harry's right," Gaius interjected calmly. He decided to use both of their shocked silences to shove their mugs of tea into their hands. Tea usually helped with conversations like this. Or alcohol. Perhaps he should have spiked his cup before coming out?

"What?" Merlin asked coldly, his voice lower than what should be capable for someone his age.

"It is no secret that Severus Snape once served under You Know Who. Albus vouched for him when his trial came, said that he had turned spy for our side and had supplied him with the information that sent the Potters into hiding before they were betrayed." He nodded to Harry, "He's the reason Albus knew your family was in danger in the first place."

"So the word of one man was enough to erase who knows how many crimes he committed in service to a madman?!" Harry asked angrily. Seeming to care little for the fact that Snape had helped his parents. Gaius supposed he could understand . . . the child likely had no memories of his parents, what difference would a few more months with them really have made to a boy who didn't even know them?

"Harry's right," Merlin shouted furiously. "We don't know what he did! Death Eaters killed my parents too, and for all we know he was one of the ones that did it! Or don't you care anymore that your friends died in that war?!"

"Merlin, -" Gaius started gently, hoping to quiet his ward's temper, despite the hurt he felt at that last comment. They may not have been his Balinor and Hunith, but he had loved them all the same. However, the calming tone only seemed to enrange him further.

"How could you keep this from me?" he asked, hurt bleeding into the seething anger of his tone. "Harry could have been in danger this whole time and we might not have known until it was too late. We deserved to know!"

"It was never going to be too late," Gaius explained rationally. "Albus vouches for the man, and he would never put any of his students in danger like that, especially Harry." He could understand that the children were hurt and afraid that such information had been kept from them, but he hoped that they would listen to reason.

"Oh, yeah, because Albus Dumbledore and his staff have such a great history of keeping the two of us away from people who might hurt us, right?" Merlin asked pointedly.

"Dumbledore trusted the Dursleys and the Kings and looked at what happened. They beat Merlin and they starved me, and they might as well have done all of that with Dumbledore's blessing, because it all happened on his watch," Harry added, moving to stand beside his brother with a grim look in his eyes, both mugs of tea forgotten on the coffee table.

Gaius pushed aside the pain hearing such words brought to him, no matter how much it hurt him to hear them, he knew that these boys had suffered worse. He had not been told any of the details of Merlin's life with Cenred and Morgause, but he had been expecting some sort of cruelty to have befallen him given what the two of them had been like in their previous lives. But still, to hear it said so plainly that his boy was beaten for years on end was almost too much to comprehend.

"What if Snape is the same?" Harry pushed, oblivious to Gaius's inner turmoil. "Dumbledore isn't perfect. He's been wrong before, and I can't risk him being wrong about this too."

"You're not going back there," Merlin said decisively. And unfortunately Gaius knew that tone. That tone meant that nothing was going to stop this boy now that he had made a decision. That tone meant that Gaius's life was about to get a lot more difficult. "As long as Snape is there, you aren't stepping foot in that castle. I'm not risking it."

Gaius opened his mouth to object, but the sight of Harry almost collapsing in relief stalled anything he had to say. He watched the tension all but melt out of his spine. Gaius hadn't realised how rigidly the child had been holding himself until he essentially fell boneless into a hug.

"You promise?" the boy asked, despite there being nothing but trust in his voice.

"I swear," he heard Merlin whisper into his hair.

Gaius had apparently been excluded from this conversation. "Merlin, that is not for you to decide," he chastened. "Hogwarts is where Harry is safest. Where do you expect him to go, if not back to the school?"

"They try and force you back there and we'll run," Merlin declared recklessly, talking directly to Harry and making his opinion on Gaius's contribution the the discussion very clear in doing so.

"No!" Harry argued, allowing a small flare of hope to surge within Gaius. "You have school and your friends and . . . and you have a real family now." Merlin made a small noise of protest but Harry just continued over him, "And where would we even go?! They'd catch us, or accuse you of kidnapping me, or something else crazy!" The child shook his head, drawing away from Merlin. "They'd just drag me back to the castle if we did something that stupid."

"Then I'd tear the castle down," Merlin replied seriously. "We both know I can do it, and more importantly, so does Dumbledore. I mean, I'd get expelled, but what does that matter when there's no school to be expelled from anyway? My magic is stronger than theirs. Arthur told me, after our fight when I first shook half of the school, that no one could go near me. Their magic couldn't even touch me when I didn't want it to."

"Merlin, you can't be serious?" Gaius exclaimed. And once more, he went ignored.

"But you don't know how to control it," Harry countered.

"I'm learning," Merlin told him, and then on cue a book flew from across the room, straight into Merlin's hands, proving his point. "And even if that's not enough yet, it won't matter. My magic reacts when I'm upset. If they try to take you and put you in the hands of a Death Eater then they better hope that all I am is upset."

Gaius wished he could say that his boy was exaggerating. But he knew this side of Merlin. This was the side of Merlin that was prepared to kill sorcerer after sorcerer if they were a threat to his King. And now this child had earned that same level of protection and devotion. Harry Potter did not have any idea the value of what he possessed. Merlin's loyalty was priceless. He carried a ruthlessness within him that Gaius had not expected to see in this life, and he had the raw power and recklessness to carry it through.

"That is enough!" Gaius shouted; he could not let them even entertain the idea for a second longer. "Merlin, you are being reckless and foolish. And you are encouraging the same in your brother. You are not going to run away. And you are not taking a ten-year-old with you. You would be putting both of yourselves in danger! For goodness sakes, at least talk to the Headmaster about it before jumping to misguided solutions that will cause more problems than it will solve! If you would just think for one second, you stupid boy!"

A perilous silence followed.

He shouldn't have lost his temper, Gaius thought frantically.

He was just so used to Merlin's hair-brained schemes in Camelot. Almost exposing his magic, rescuing cursed druid girls, insulting nobles, getting himself thrown in the dungeons, drinking poison, just risking his life over and over again. It was never ending. Gaius used to shout at him to just keep his head down, to just think things through for once. But he shouldn't have lost his temper. Not this time. Not in this life. And especially not at a twelve year old boy who just wanted to keep his little brother safe.

Merlin was staring up at him in teary-eyed defiance. He was shaking where he stood, but he had moved enough to push Harry behind him as though shielding him from danger. His eyes were wide and his lower lip was trembling, and all Gaius could think was that he shouldn't have lost his temper.

Harry's hand was clutching the fabric of Merlin's sleeve. He wasn't shaking, but his eyes were darting around the room, scanning for exits, plotting a path that they could use to escape from him if they needed to, and all Gaius could think was that he shouldn't have lost his temper.

Harry had told him barely ten minutes ago that these boys had been beaten and starved, and all Gaius could think was that he shouldn't have lost his temper.

"You have a week here," Gaius said weakly, his voice hoarse (maybe from the shouting, maybe from the thickness clogging up his throat all of a sudden). "Just take a week, to relax, to think, to come up with a plan that won't be putting either of your lives at risk," he all but begged. Because if the boys decided to run now, Gaius had no doubt that they would also be running from him. "I shouldn't have shouted," he told them remorsefully, "and I apologise."

The boys didn't react. Merlin was still just staring at him, looking more terrified than he had ever been. More terrified than facing dragons or Dorocha or Morgana had ever left him. More terrified than he had been when his magic had been taken from him before Camlan. More terrified than he had any right to be. Gaius did not think that his heart could handle breaking much more.

He turned around and moved towards the kitchen.

Barely a second later he heard shuffling before Merlin's bedroom door shut closed. He almost wished that his boy had felt safe enough to slam it.

"I thought you said he was good? That he was kind?"

"Yeah . . . that's what I thought too."

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know yet."

. . .

"Happy birthday, Harry."