Chapter 6 - Powerless

"Don't do anything stupid, boy," Lucius Malfoy warned, the weapon in his hand giving him confidence in the presence of a power that Uther was still struggling to comprehend.

"Something stupid?" the child asked, his voice pitched low, almost menacing. A child should not be menacing. "Like what?"

Then, when Lucius Malfoy lost his wand, he lost his confidence with it. And with their own weapons being threatened against them, those around him seemed to share that loss.

He was just a child, but he had disarmed every person who had raised their wand to him. Despite all of their own magic, apparently they were just as defenceless to whatever magic was doing as a muggle was, as Uther was.

All of the Professors still had their wands, Uther knew, because they had apparently known better than to draw them on this boy. They had faced his power before ('Arthur you told me yourself how even Professor McGonagall's magic couldn't touch him after the incident,' Morgana's voice echoed in his head), and they knew that they were not equipped to deal with it.

Uther had learnt the basics of magic. The knowledge was necessary if he was to force his way into their world. If he was to forge himself a space in the world his children would grow up in.

Wandless and wordless magic was possible, but only for the strongest and most powerful wizards. Children used it in accidental bursts, but never controlled. Children were not meant to be able to wield this sort of power. And from the looks on everyone's faces, it seemed that for the first time today, they were all in agreement on that.

This child was impossible.

He then looked to Albus Dumbldore. A man who had ended his own wizarding war. A man who had defeated a Dark Lord. A man who had been dealing with children and their errant magic for decades.

And Albus Dumbledore looked back with resignation in his eyes. There was nothing his magic could do to stop this either.

Uther could almost comprehend it now, how small he must seem to these people, how they could look down on him, how they could think themselves his betters, how powerless (despite the taser in his pocket) he truly was. If this was how they thought of themselves, useless without their wands and their magic, then Uther could understand why they thought those born without it were worthless.

They were still wrong, of course.

Uther had not felt this close powerless since he was ushered out of the birthing room as the sound of beeping started getting closer and closer together. He had still been near enough to the door to hear when it blurred into one long beep. After that, a lot of things started blurring together.

But Uther remembered what had brought him back . . .

His son's cries were a horrible thing. And yet, they had most certainly saved Uther from himself.

What Uther needed was Merlin's equivalent. He needed the boy's breaking point. He needed the lynchpin. He needed the thing that would snap him out of his blur.

And luckily for all of them, that lynchpin was in the room with them.

All of this was about Harry.

Merlin didn't think that his brother was safe. All of this, it was like a frog's bright colouring so that predators knew that it was poisonous to eat. It was meant to be a warning. All of it just a big threat. A show, even. He was letting every person in the room know that he was poisonous if they tried to eat him. He could kill them if they harmed him or his.

He was just trying to show them that he was going to protect his brother. He needed them to see what he was capable of, what he could do to them if they pressed him.

All of this was about feeling powerless. Uther almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Every single person in the room, feeling powerless.

The boy probably wasn't aware of this. He probably thought it was anger, but it wasn't.

It was instinct.

It was only then that Uther remembered something else he had learned when educating himself of the basics of magic.

It took only the most powerful wizards to do wandless and wordless magic . . . but it was something that magical creatures could do with ease.

Folding the thought away to dissect at another time, he called to the boy, to the lynchpin, "Harry?"

Minerva wasn't sure what to do.

Why was it that when it came to this boy she was always powerless?

She had been the one to bring him to his uncle. She had been the one to lead him to that dragon and watch him fall apart. She had been the one to press him about being injured until he blew up her office in fear. She had been the one unable to do a thing when Pomona showed her the truth of what was happening to those boys. She had been the one to find him when he shook the castle to the core through his sheer panic. And she had been the one who was unable to stop him, even as he lost consciousness.

And now. Once more, this boy was falling apart and Minerva was powerless to do nothing but watch. Worse, she had even helped prompt it this time.

She had been so dismissive when Albus informed them of the school board meeting to discuss Severus's position at the school. She had thought it little more than silly students rushing home to winge to their parents about the strict and scary potion's master.

She had found out more after that, that it was really all to do with his Death Eater past, and once more she had dismissed it. She could understand a parent feeling uncomfortable with such a fact, but she knew Severus. Though she had been hesitant to trust him on Albus's word alone so soon after the end of the war, she had seen him in his grief over poor Lily Potter, seen his shame and his regret, seen him at his worst and seen his love of potions save him from apathy.

Severus loved what he did. He was not the most natural teacher, and she knew that he showed heavy favouritism towards his house, but deep down he was a good man who did not deserve to lose his job. And so she had put her trust in Albus, knowing that he was prepared to fight this, even if it meant working with the likes of Lucius Malfoy. Whatever necessary to keep Severus at Hogwarts, where he belonged.

Even when she had seen the boys, even when she had realised exactly who had such an issue with Severus's presence around them, she still hadn't truly considered it all.

And then finally, the more Mister Pendragon spoke, the clearer it all became to her . . . why these children were so desperate for someone to help them, how they could not stand the idea of Severus teaching them, how even now he had not put all of his past behind him.

Minerva had thought that she had finally shaken herself of her unerring trust in her colleagues after she had discovered how neglectful Albus had been with the boys' care. But it seemed that she had still been clinging to that trust and loyalty. Well. No more.

She had watched James and Lily's son fall into hysterics and knew within her heart that she had failed him too.

But at least there was one person here who refused to fail that little boy, even if his own adults had failed him.

Merlin Emrys would not give up so easily on his brother's safety. And so, when he opposed the Board of Governors Minerva did not raise her wand like so many others. Not because she knew her magic to be ineffective against his, but because he was right. And if it wouldn't have cost her her job, Minerva would have been standing right at his side with her wand raised.

As it were, she had a plan. She couldn't change the board's mind on their decision to keep Severus on, and neither would Merlin. But she did have a solution, if the boys would agree to it.

Not that that mattered when there were shards of glass and wands alike being pointed threateningly at the school board.

Luckily, Minerva had already seen the best way to get through to Merlin when he was so wrapped up in his magic that no one could reach him. Just like with the younger Minster Pendragon, he needed someone he trusted to get through to him. And luckily such a person was on hand.

"Harry?" she whispered cautiously, refusing to be powerless any longer.

Albus had severely underestimated this situation.

In all aspects.

He had underestimated Harry's distrust of him. He had seen the boy's reluctance to trust him when he first arrived at Hogwarts, but he had thought that he had won him over by allowing him to stay close to his friend for so much of the year. He had seen that the best way to keep both boys' allegiances was to allow them access to each other. That was why Albus had so easily signed off on allowing Harry to use his fireplace so often and even allowing a visit for the child's birthday.

And yet. Harry had not trusted him enough to come to him when he learned of Severus's past. Instead he had run to one of the parents of his friends.

Then, Albus had underestimated the case that Minster Pendragon was willing to build against them. Albus knew that the muggle Prime Minister was hoping to bridge the gap between the politics of the muggle and magical worlds, and it was something that Albus was in full support of. He had foolishly assumed that Uther Pendragon taking this appeal was simply a move to get his foot in the door of the wizarding political landscape. Simply, a way to establish himself while also presenting himself as an ally of the Boy Who Lived. Albus had thought him a clever and resourceful man that he might be able to make use of in the coming years. He had certainly not thought of him as a risk to his plans. And yet, the moment he had brought up Severus's sealed court trial, Albus realised what a mistake he had made in assuming so little of the man.

Truly, Albus could concede that many of the points he made had merit. But Albus knew better. Severus had made an unbreakable vow to protect Harry Potter, he held no loyalty for Voldemort any longer, and Harry was safe at Hogwarts. He just had to find a way to make them all see that.

Albus had also underestimated just how much of an unlikely ally Lucius Malfoy could be. He had seen just how much more the board had been swayed by Mister Pendragon's words, and even Mister Potter's impassioned plea. He was almost certain that more of them had wished to vote Severus out of his job than those that had actually spoken in favour of the motion. Just as he was sure that those very same people would be leaving today with slightly heavier pockets than they had arrived with. Albus certainly didn't approve of such methods, but there was nought he could do to stop it. And, in this case, it had suited his purposes just fine. Severus maintaining his friendships with the likes of the Malfoys was necessary to their future plans, but Lucius's aid had not been unwelcome in this instance.

But there was one more thing that Albus had underestimated above all others.

Merlin Emrys.

Albus had seen his wild and unpredictable magic. He had thought that he understood the raw power that came with the Magic of the Old Religion after seeing the mess of Minerva's office so many months ago. He had seen the boy whip the wind around him in his panic, the elements themselves reacting to the whims of a child. Just as he had thought when Minerva informed him of the earthquake incident, that that time it had instead been the earth responding to his power. Albus had been away on business that day, only receiving second hand accounts of the events which occurred, but what he heard had been enough for him to dismiss it as more of the same.

This, however, was different. The boy wasn't losing control. He wasn't lost in a haze of fear or panic. His magic wasn't lashing out to bend the newest element to his will.

No, he was actively drawing on his power and controlling it.

It was the very thing he had hired his new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor to do, help the boy learn control. But now . . . Albus was most certainly having second thoughts about such a decision. It was one thing for the boy to cause havoc accidentally. It was another to threaten a room full of adults with their own wands.

He didn't know when the boy had started to develop such a grip on his magic, but he worried it would not bode well for them to be so powerless at the mercy of this child.

Luckily, with Minerva's description of the events that shook the castle, she also told him how they managed to finally get the boy's magic to stop. In that case it had been the presence of Arthur Pendragon who had managed to bring the boy back to his right mind, but Albus was sure that the presence of anyone who the boy trusted would be enough to bring him to his senses.

And it was with that thought that he called out, "Harry?"

Harry watched with trepidation as Merlin stared down Lucius Malfoy without an ounce of fear.

It was truly something to behold. Harry was so used to seeing his brother hesitate and flinch in the presence of an adult like Malfoy sneering down at him. Even with grownups who weren't so overtly threatening, Merlin usually had a wariness about him as though he was prepared to flee at any moment.

But not now.

Now, his brother was staring down a scornful man without even the smallest tremble in his hands.

Harry didn't understand how, but he was certainly glad for it. Mister Malfoy seemed like the type to pounce at the tiniest showing of fear; Merlin couldn't afford to look weak in front of a man like that.

"I'll have you expelled for this!" he hissed furiously. "You think you can threaten me and get away with it?!"

Even in the face of such anger, all Merlin did was stare back unimpressed. "Who's threatening? A bunch of fully trained witches and wizards raised their wands at me, so I disarmed them. I was acting in self defence. If anything, you were the ones threatening a twelve year old." The man all but spluttered in response. "Doesn't look very good, does it?"

"What do you call shattering the windows if not a threat?!"

At this Merlin almost smiled. "A temper tantrum," he replied blandly.

Harry watched as Lucius Malfoy seemed to register his own words being repeated back at him. "You all but ran us through with all of that glass! That's a threat if I ever saw one, boy!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's not like I used a spell. Look," he waved his arms out by his side, looking smug, "my wand isn't even drawn."

Harry noticed Mister Pendragon and Dumbledore exchanging looks out of the corner of his eye, while Professor McGonagall's eyes seemed to keep shifting between himself and Merlin. He didn't know what any of them were thinking, but he worried they would try and catch his brother off guard while all of his attention was so firmly fixed on Mister Malfoy.

He had to do something. He had to find a way to calm everyone down before someone got hurt.

This was all his fault, after all. All of this was happening because of him. Because he couldn't just deal with Snape himself. Because he ran to Merlin and Morgana and Mister Pendragon for help. Because he started panicking in the middle of answering questions. If he had just kept his head together, then Merlin wouldn't have reacted like that, wouldn't have felt the need to get overprotective.

He should have just kept his mouth shut from the start and dealt with Snape.

How many years did Merlin stick it out with Cenred so that he could stay close to Harry?

Harry had never had the proof that the Durselys were horrid, but Merlin had been a walking bruise back in Surrey. He could have gone to child services whenever he wanted, only they would have taken him away from Harry. And so Merlin had stayed with his horrible Uncle, put up with the beatings and hunger and the cruelty just to stay close to him.

Why couldn't Harry do the same? He was being so selfish. Snape had never even hurt him. Why couldn't he just put up with the man instead of risking everything Merlin had built for himself?

He heard all of the voices then, hissing, whispering, calling out his name. But they didn't matter. Merlin mattered.

"I can still have you expelled for performing magic outside of school, boy!" Malfoy. Still talking.

"Then it's a good thing we're in Hogwarts, isn't it?" Harry cut in, finally finding his voice. "He hasn't performed any magic outside of school."

The man turned his furious gaze towards Harry then. But he wouldn't cower away. He could be strong, like his brother. This man couldn't hurt him. Merlin wouldn't let him.

"Stay out of this, Potter!"

"It's okay, Harry," Merlin told him gently, looking at him for what felt like the first time in forever. How had the last fifteen minutes dragged so long? "Ignore him. He doesn't matter - none of them matter. I'm going to keep you safe."

"I know," Harry said. "I know you are . . . But you need to put their wands down first."

But Merlin just looked at him confused and a little hurt. "I'm not going to hurt anyone," he said, sounding wounded.

Harry smiled sadly. "I know that." And he did. He knew that Merlin wouldn't hurt anyone unless they tried to hurt one of them first. "But look at them. Look at Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall and Mister Pendragon. Even Malfoy, beneath the anger. They're afraid."

He watched his brother's eyes dart around the room, the both of them ignoring Lucius Malfoy's stuttering protests, and saw the realisation sink in. He watched the guilt and the shame could over his eyes, and barely a moment later, they were gold once more.

The glass shards that had been hovering in the air moved almost in reverse as if the windows had never been broken. Twelve wands dropped in a clump on the floor simultaneously. Just a bunch of sticks, really, without the magic holding them up.

"They know now that you're stronger than them. They know, okay? But we can't just threaten everybody into doing what we want. It isn't right," Harry said softly. But still, no matter how gently he said the words, he watched them hit Merlin like a blow.

That wasn't what he wanted. Harry was just trying to protect him. Dumbledore and the other professors still had their wands, and Harry was certain that Mister Pendragon was armed with something. One of them only needed to take him by surprise, not give him a chance for his magic to react in time. They might have just knocked him out or they might have done worse. But either way Harry couldn't risk it. He couldn't risk his brother like that.

"I was just trying to keep you safe," Merlin promised. "I wasn't going to attack anyone. I was just . . . angry. And scared. Because you can't be safe here with him, and you were right before we can't run, which means that I don't know what to do. I'm your big brother and I'm supposed to take care of you, you trust me to take care of you, and I'm failing."

"No you're not! You're the only person who's ever looked out for me. You've done enough. Forget Snape. Forget the Board of Governors. And forget Dumbledore," Harry said emphatically, uncaring that those very people were listening to this very conversation. "I shouldn't have made this your responsibility. I'm not letting you tank your future to try and help me. So just apologise to everyone before they find a reason to expel you and I'll . . . I'll just . . ."

God damnit. He didn't know.

"You will stay with me," Professor McGonagall cut in, a look in her eyes daring him to say otherwise.

"What?" Harry asked, too surprised to string together a real response.

"You remain a ward of Hogwarts, but you do not feel safe within the school. No one but myself holds the password to enter the Gryffindor Head of House chambers, and therefore Severus would be incapable of entering," she elaborated. But Harry was still dumbstruck. He didn't understand why . . .

"Now, Minerva, I really don't think that this is necessary -"

"Albus, do shut up," she replied promptly. And, surprisingly, he did.

"Harry," she continued, her voice softening once more, "I can have the castle add another set of rooms to my accommodation, providing you protection from Professor Snape. I'm afraid that I cannot help when it comes to the rest of the castle, but I can give you someplace safe to retreat to."

That was . . . an improvement at least.

Definitely an improvement from the cold empty room that he was pretty sure he hated more than his cupboard.

Still, Harry turned to look helplessly at his brother; Merlin always had the right answers. But Merlin was just staring at Professor McGonagall.

"You left me with Cenred," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "Are you really any better than Dumbledore?"

"Perhaps not," she acknowledged, regret evident on her face. "But I am trying to be."

His brother nodded, almost reluctantly. "You swear you'll do everything you can to keep him safe?" he asked desperately.

She seemed to stand straighter under his expectations. "I swear it."

"Harry?" his brother asked, finally looking back at him. "It's your choice," he told him, "but I don't know how much better we're going to get."

"Do you trust her?" he asked in response. Because Harry didn't know this woman. He had seen her around the school over the last year, and she had been the one who had first shown him to his bedroom (that silent empty room that only ever left him feeling trapped), but Merlin was the one who spent hours with her every week, even if it was just inside of a classroom.

"With you?" he laughed harshly. "I don't even trust myself with that."

Harry looked at him sadly, wanting more than anything to just reach over and hug him. But he was too aware of all the eyes on them. The Hogwarts staff, watching and waiting. The Board of Governors, still too wary to reach for their cluster of wands. Uther Pendragon, in over his head and trying not to look like it.

Harry couldn't afford to let either of them look weak in front of all of those eyes.

"Yes," Merlin answered eventually. "I trust her to try her best, at least."

"Okay then," he agreed, feeling lost.

Merlin turned directly to Snape then, and Harry finally understood him when he said that he hadn't been threatening anybody before. Because he was definitely threatening someone now.

Harry could feel the hair on his arm stand on end as - what he could only assume was - raw magic seemed to gather up around Merlin. It was almost a visible aura, all of that energy bracketing him. His eyes glowed with barely contained power, and when he looked at Snape Harry was surprised that the man didn't incinerate on the spot.

"You stay away from Harry," Merlin warned. "You don't talk to him. You don't look at him. As far as you're concerned, Harry Potter doesn't exist." Merlin looked at him like he was dirt. "You harm one hair on his head and I will turn this castle into rubble. And I will make sure as hell that you're buried underneath it."

Snape glared back mutinously.

Harry watched him open his mouth to argue but instead Mister Pendragon quickly cut in to say, "Seeing as Mister Emrys has very benevolently decided not to impale you with hundreds of shards of glass, I would keep your mouth shut, before he changes his mind."

The board looked surprised to see that he was still there, as if they had forgotten that he even existed the moment he had stopped talking, but Merlin nodded at him in thanks.

Then, he turned to Dumbledore.

"When Harry starts his schooling you keep him out of potions." It was not a suggestion.

"My boy, potions in a compulsory class, by order of the Ministry."

Merlin's jaw tightened. "Then I'll hire him a tutor. He'll take the end of year exams, he'll take his OWLs, but unless Snape is gone, he stays out of that classroom. The same goes for me and whichever other students who want to."

"My boy, that's preposterous!"

"No! Preposterous is hiring a criminal to teach children. And if you won't get rid of him, then the least you can do is allow students to remove themselves from the situation," Merlin spat. "And I am not 'your boy'."

"I'll personally cover the cost of a new potions instructor, open to tutor all students and year groups who require it," Mister Pendragon cut in. "I would have done so for my children in any case, it won't be any trouble to cover the rest of it."

"Very well," the Headmaster agreed, sounding very old and very tired.

Harry wasn't quite sure that this was a victory for anyone, but Merlin's magic calmed at the affirmation and that was enough for now.

And despite the fact Harry was the only one in the room without a weapon (no wand, and no taser that he had glimpsed in Mister Pendragon's pocket), he was pretty sure he was the least powerless person there. Because he had Merlin. And Merlin would do anything for him.