Chapter 16 - Conversations in the Library
Two month's worth of detentions and a life-ban on quidditch. That was it.
Mithian could hardly believe it when they told her that that was all the punishment that Valiant was going to get, but the fact that Morgana was practically frothing at the mouth in anger really sold it. Apparently, Arthur had had to hold her back from physically attacking the headmaster when he had declared that the incident had simply been 'a missguided, youthful prank'.
Mithian thought that a physical attack was an odd course of action for a witch to take, but Morgana had defended that, "There was no chance of me winning against him using magic. But I figured if I was quick enough I could have gotten in a good slap at the very least. Bloody Arthur ruining everything again -" And well. That rant had gone on for a while. But the explanation had really helped Mithian see the familial resemblance between her and Arthur. They really both just had the worst temper.
So, while Morgana took a positively Gryffindor approach at revenge, by hexing Black whenever his back was turned (and, well, sometimes to his face too), Mithian decided to take a more subtle route. She decided to simply discredit every aspect of who he said he was.
Now, she may not care about blood purity but Mithian would be a fool not to notice that the majority of her house did - and those that thought otherwise were generally smart enough to keep that opinion to themselves. It was frankly a little ridiculous how much it changed one's social standing within Slytherin, but she had seen it firsthand, when Morgana had gone from a filthy mudblood to a tolerable halfblood at the discovery of her relation to Professor Nimueh Le Fay. Finding a distant magical relative had changed everything for her friend. The bullying and name-calling had all but vanished overnight, the housemates who would rather sneer than make conversation were suddenly alright with asking for homework help or makeup tips. Mithian had despised their two-faced nature, and luckily Morgana had not been afraid to take the opportunity to scorn them all in return for how they had treated her last year.
Which led her quite nicely to her idea on how to completely ruin Valiant Black.
A year and a half ago at the welcome feast, Mithian hadn't really cared when little first-year Valiant had quickly nodded and assured his new housemates when they assumed that yes, of course it were The Ancient and Noble House of Black where he came from. At least he was smart enough to claim to be a halfblood son a few generations removed from some forgotten cousin. Mithian hadn't spared much more thought to his lies than a little bit of pity. She would hardly begrudge someone doing what they could to survive in Slytherin.
And yet, she had known instantly that he was lying. Her father, trying to teach her the folly of the pureblooded mindset, had told her all about the Blacks. About how their obsession with keeping their family pure had led to inbreeding and madness, where the last generation of the Blacks were two sons serving a madman - one presumed dead, one sentenced to life in Azkaban - and three daughters who had shed their family name - one just as mad as her lord: a confirmed death eater who had tortured a young family and was now rotting in Azkaban with her cousin, one wed to a suspected death eater: a socialite who had managed to salvage her family's reputation with her husbands endless bribes, and the last lucky daughter: a runaway who had gotten far away from the insanity of her family and gotten herself disowned while she had the chance. It was a harrowing tale of how a once great family could implode from their own foolish rhetoric. But nowhere in that tale was an ill known cousin who had managed to carry on the family name to an unscathed generation.
Which meant Valiant Black was a liar.
The Mithian of a few weeks ago had simply minded her own business, and kept her knowledge to herself, but then Valiant Black had almost killed one of her friends. And so Mithain went digging.
It wasn't very hard. She knew Black had at least one wizarding parent, since he hadn't come to Hogwarts completely oblivious, and, based on his need to lie, she had to assume that that parent was a muggleborn. A muggleborn who knew enough to advise their child to outright lie to protect themselves meant that this parent had also been a Slytherin, since the other houses weren't anywhere near as prejudiced. After narrowing that down, it just took a look through an old student directory and asking her mother for an odd favour - to send her wedding announcements from Norwich (where Valiant had once offhandedly mentioned growing up) around the right time frame - and simply look and compare the names until she found a match.
And there she found a Cecilia Williams, to be wed to Anthony Black on March 16th 1976. The same Cecelia Williams who had graduated Hogwarts, with no particularly outstanding achievements, in June of 1971.
It had taken a few weeks of digging, but once she had the names she just needed to send a few letters to confirm the truth. Poor Cecilia Williams, after a couple of fruitless years of being turned away from ministry job after ministry job, returned to her muggle childhood town, where she got a job as a receptionist at a muggle company, where she met her soon-to-be muggle husband.
Mithian had found it quite sad, in truth. That a witch, even if she was an unremarkable one, had not managed to find a place in wizarding society. She supposed that the woman, having graduated around the height of the Dark Lord's reign, had had an even harder job as a muggleborn trying to find a place in their world. Truly, Mithian did not begrudge her wishing the best for her son and advising him to lie to protect himself.
If only she hadn't raised that son to be such a piece of shit, Mithian wouldn't have to undo all of Cecilia Black née Willaim's hard work.
And if one thing spread through Hogwarts like fiendfyre, it was gossip. Mithian just needed to have a single conversation within hearing distance of a few upper-years, and by the next day Valiant Black's life will have gone up in flames.
She looked over her shoulder, spotting a mixed study group of sixth-year Slytherin and Ravenclaws - even better. Turning back to the Slytherin second-year girls at her table, Mithian began, almost giddily, and far louder than usual, "You'll never guess what I heard . . ."
She was almost certain that the rumour wouldn't be chased back to her. Who would ever suspect a borderline bloodtraitor like her to start a rumour like that?
She would ask the girls in front of her to keep it to themselves, but they most certainly wouldn't. And even if they did, they weren't Mithian's primary targets. She had her true gossip-mongers listening just a few feet away. These things always carried more weight when it came from one of the upper-years.
Very soon Valiant would have no one watching his back, and Morgana would be free to hex the boy to her life's content. Mithian's work here was done.
Merlin and Arthur's argument about quidditch seemed to have been well and truly forgotten when Arthur fell out of the sky. They hadn't exactly talked about it - Merlin hadn't apologised for snitching to a Professor, and Arthur hadn't apologised for getting angry at his friend for going behind his back. Really, there should have been some sort of lingering tension or resentment, but Arthur couldn't exactly stay mad after Merlin saved his life, and Merlin apparently couldn't stay mad after watching Arthur almost die. So they had come to a mutual agreement that all was forgotten.
Luckily, whatever resentment Morgana held for Harry's 'betrayal' after Arthur's near-death experience was instead redirected towards Valiant Black. Actually, it seemed as though a lot of resentment was being directed towards Valiant Black, far more than there had been this time last week, Arthur noted as he watched Black get all but chased out of the library by some Slytherins.
"What's up with that?" Harry asked, also noting the odd occurance.
While Black had been receiving unanimous hatred from Gryffindor house - along with some scornful looks from the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws - Slytherin had, up until now, stood firmly behind the psychopath. Arthur wondered, idly, what had changed. Though he couldn't say he was sad at the outcome. His only real regret was that he hadn't managed to get a punch in, as the two of them were always watched like a hawk whenever they were in the vicinity of one another.
"Never you mind," Mithian responded primly, dipping her quill back into her inkwell after finishing her last sentence with a particular flourish. Arthur couldn't help but notice that the dismissal sounded somewhat smug.
"Never mind that," Morgana interjected, staring at Potter suspiciously - okay so maybe Morgana hadn't redirected all her resentment about Potter turning on her. "Why do you care? Bastard's getting what's coming to him," she said decisively.
"Careful, or Merlin will bite your head off," Gwaine warned, grinning at Merlin's timely entrance into the Library. "We try not to swear in front of the baby," he added playfully.
"Hey! Not a baby! I'm only two years younger than you lot!" was Potter's grumpy protestation. An argument they had all heard plenty of times before, and one that was luckily cut off by Merlin's irritable approach to their table.
"Extra lessons!" Merlin told them angrily, all but throwing his bag on the floor and slumping into his chair dramatically. "On Saturdays of all days! I knew Dumbledore was just waiting for a way to punish me."
"That's what Professor Nimueh kept you back for?" Arthur asked incredulously, but happy to stop thinking about Black. "Why? It's not like you're struggling in lessons. You breeze through whatever spell we're learning in the first five minutes of class, and then spend the rest of the lesson working on your special-ancient-crap."
"It's not crap!" Merlin said, sitting up suddenly, offended. Which wasn't how Arthur meant it! He didn't mean it was crap. It's just that saying 'The Magic of the Old Religion' was a bloody mouthful. He was just being economical with his word choice, that was all!
"Yeah, it's cool as hell! Fuck off, Pendragon, you're just jealous!" Gwaine jumped in, eager as ever to start a baseless argument with Arthur. And he was not jealous. Who cared if Merlin was stronger than him. Merlin was still a wuss, who needed Arthur to have his back.
"Wha- Hey!" Gwaine complained, rubbing his arm.
"I've warned you to stop swearing around my brother," Merlin glared, tucking his wand back into his robe sleeve. Harry, who had both his hands on two separate books, holding the pages open for Mithian, rolled his eyes.
"Oh, forget Gwaine's potty mouth," Arthur huffed. He would have been more annoyed by the diversion, but it was always fun watching Gwaine get hexed. "Why is Professor Nimueh giving you extra lessons? It's suspicious, right?" he asked, looking at the others for confirmation.
"Oh please don't start again with your irrational hatred," Merlin said tiredly, pulling his own ink and parchment out of his bag to get started on the transfiguration essay they had all gathered in the library to work on. Other than Harry. He was just there because he was clingy and demanded as much of Merlin's attention as he would give.
"It's not irrational! She's creepy!" he argued, sick of yet another person taking Merlin's attention away from him. "Morgana, back me up!"
"Hm?" she asked distractedly, and Arthur debated grabbing one of the many books on their table and throwing it at her head.
"Why do you bother sitting with us if you're just going to ignore everything we say and do?"
"Because," she smiled sarcastically, finally gracing them with her attention. "Whenever I can be bothered to pay attention, I get to watch you say or do something incredibly stupid, and hold it over your head forever." Gwaine snorted, and Mithian giggled next to him, showing that obviously she at least was paying attention to the conversation, despite never having removed her eyes from her essay.
"I do not -!" he began angrily, only to be quickly interrupted.
"Can you lot please get back on topic?" Harry complained. And no, Arthur was not grateful for being pulled back to the point of the conversation. That boy had no manners. You didn't interrupt your elders. His father would have his hide if he ever behaved like that.
"I'm not in any classes, so someone please tell me what's weird or creepy about Professor Nimueh." Harry sighed, obviously annoyed at being out of the loop.
"Oh, her," Morgana drawled, an obvious distaste in her voice.
"Yes! See! Morgana thinks she's suspicious too!" Arthur crowed, vindicated.
But instead his sister just shook her head. "Sadly not," Morgana told him. "She's a bitch," she said consideringly, turning back to her essay, "But she's not up to anything nefarious."
Mithian hummed. "Last time she held you back after class, you spiralled, stopped showing up for classes, and didn't talk to anyone for weeks," she interjected lightly, as though adding something trivial to the conversation.
Meanwhile, Arthur tried very hard not to pick up and shatter the inkwell on the table in front of him.
"Like I said - a bitch," Morgana agreed loftily.
"Nevermind that!" Gwaine said, loud enough for Arthur to hear over the sound of his own pulse thudding in his ear drums. "I say 'fuck' and you - hey! Ow! That's my point! I curse and you hex me. Le Fay does it and suddenly it's fine?"
"Of course it's not fine - can you all please stop swearing around Harry - but I don't have a death wish. I'm not hexing Morgana."
She smiled smugly, obviously pleased at the exception, and general fear she inspired.
Arthur silently seethed. How could she be so blasé about this?
He was tempted to hex her just to watch that smug smile fall. Considering her fear at his almost death a few weeks ago, he was reasonably sure she wouldn't kill him for doing so. And Arthur was definitely in the mood to hex someone right now. Namely, Professor Nimueh for whatever she did to his sister.
"So she was behind what happened to you!" he hissed.
"She wasn't behind anything, Arthur," Morgana scoffed. "She just gave me some rather sad news -"
"You cried yourself to sleep for weeks."
" - some rather devastating news about our shared family," Morgana finished with a swift correction, throwing a disgruntled glare in Mithian's direction after her 'casual' reminder.
And Arthur really was about to start throwing things if everyone kept reacting like this was nothing.
Morgana, seemingly being able to see from his face how close to snapping Arthur was, elaborated. She sighed, "Look, she's a conniving bitch and I don't like her. But, Arthur," she said, grabbing his hand under the table and slowly unfurling his fist, where it had been clenched against his leg, "Everything we were worried about at the start of the year - don't be. I told you I'd handle it and I did. She's not a threat. I promise."
Arthur breathed out slowly, wanting to take her at her word, but not quite sure that he could. It was true that Morgana had asked him to trust her at the start of the year, and maybe he had been an idiot to ignore her own premonition when his had predicted Nimueh . . . but he wasn't sure that he could keep trusting her blindly when she kept shutting him out.
She had said nothing of her conversation with Nimueh all that time ago. And even now, she wasn't telling Arthur what was said. What little he knew about the situation was through Mithian's little comments, not because his sister had confided anything in him. She had avoided him for weeks, and then Arthur had been too scared to push her away again to ask any questions.
Morgana just kept asking for Arthur's trust while giving him none in return.
"Well then," Gwaine said awkwardly, interrupting Arthur and Morgana's silent staring match. "That's not weird and cryptic at all."
Arthur said nothing, simply shoving his half-finished essay into his bag and leaving.
If no one would give him answers then he would get them himself.
Merlin forgot his exasperation as soon as he saw Arthur storm off. He exchanged a quick confused and surprised look with Morgana (he was confused, she was surprised), before abandoning his things and following where his friend had stormed off to.
He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. He had just come in intending to complain about his extra classes, he'd hardly expected the conversation to end with Arthur getting upset. Not that he was entirely sure what Arthur was upset about. It all seemed a bit confusing, the way Morgana and Arthur were speaking in circles, talking around certain things that they obviously didn't want the rest of them to know about.
Merlin tried not to let the secrets bother him. Arthur and Morgana were family, family were allowed to have secrets. Just like how there were plenty of things about Merlin that only Harry really understood about him. It didn't mean that he loved his friends any less. Things were just different with his brother.
But despite those assurances, Merlin couldn't help the slightly sick feeling he'd had in his stomach as soon as he saw Arthur walk away from them.
Merlin tried to put that aside for now, and just focused on finding his friend.
Merlin caught up to Arthur quite quickly, catching him between two towering bookcases, giving them some sense of privacy.
Merlin reached out to grab his hand before he got too far, but he wasn't expecting Arthur to snatch his hand back angrily. The look on his face when he turned around to face Merlin had him stumbling back slightly.
"Sorry," he said quickly, ducking his eyes down to avoid Arthur's. He didn't like the expression in them at all. He had seen his friend angry at him before, but he still hated to see it directed towards him, and he couldn't help his slight flinch backwards at the sight.
Which was stupid. Merlin was the one who had grabbed him unexpectedly, Arthur had every right to be annoyed at him - Merlin didn't like when people grabbed him unexpectedly either.
"Sorry," he repeated again, this time forcing his eyes up. He refused to be afraid of Arthur - Arthur was his friend. "You just . . . you looked upset," he explained awkwardly. "I didn't want you to feel like you were alone."
He watched, with no small amount of relief, as Arthur's gaze softened.
"You're a good friend, Merlin,"
Merlin tried not to flush, choking back a denial. He wasn't sure he was as good a friend as Arthur deserved, not if he hadn't noticed something bothering Arthur this badly.
"I'm sorry I didn't take it seriously," Merlin said guiltily, "That you didn't like Professor Nimueh." He had hated Arthur dismissing his concerns over the quidditch game, he hadn't realised at the time that he had done the exact same thing about their new Defence Professor.
Arthur just shrugged. "It's not like I ever explained why," he conceded.
"But I still should have trusted you," Merlin said. "You're my friend. I know you're not stupid. I should have just trusted you to know what you're talking about. Even if I didn't understand it. Even if I still don't understand it."
"Morgana asked me to leave it to her," Arthur said. "To trust her." There was something bitter about the way he said it, Merlin thought, as though he regretted it.
It wasn't quite an explanation, but Merlin felt a bit better at the thought that it was Arthur keeping Morgana's secret, and not that he just hadn't trusted Merlin.
"And you're upset she didn't trust you with whatever she found out," Merlin reasoned, finally understanding what had caused Arthur to storm off so angrily. "You don't think she'll tell you if you ask?"
Arthur scoffed. "You heard how she glossed over it just now. She acts like what happened wasn't important, so we won't think it's important either. Father used it all the time in his campaigns - don't bring up what you don't want to talk about, and if someone else mentions it, downplay it. Never bring attention towards your weak spots."
Merlin thought that that bit of advice explained rather a lot about the two siblings. Morgana chose to deflect everything she didn't want to talk about, and Arthur would choose to walk away from all of his friends when something bothered him so none of them would see him look upset. So none of them would see him look 'weak'.
As much as Merlin was grateful for the help Mister Pendragon had given him and Harry that summer, Merlin wished he had taught his children that they could ask for help too.
Well, if Arthur was too proud to ask for Merlin's help, then Merlin would just do the hard part for him.
"What can I do?" Merlin asked him. "How can I help?"
Arthur looked at him then, a mix between completely helpless and immensely grateful.
"Just . . . don't be alone with her," he pleaded. "You saw what she did to Morgana after she spoke to her alone! I don't want that to happen to you too!"
Merlin started nodding quickly in agreement, anything to get that distressed look off of Arthur's face, before even realising what he was agreeing to. He froze immediately upon the realisation: the reason this whole conversation had happened.
"But . . . the Headmaster said I have to have extra lessons with her," Merlin said with a wince, feeling incredibly guilty, especially when Arthur let out a small, pained noise that he didn't seem able to hold back.
"Well don't go then!" he shouted, earning them a few glares from the other students still trying to get on with studying.
"I - I don't -" Merlin stuttered, panicking. The yelling had thrown him off balance, and then the suggestion to ignore a direct order from an adult made something in Merlin's chest seize. Bad things happened when you didn't do what grownups wanted you to do.
Whatever look had been on Arthur's face quickly turned to betrayal at Merlin's inability to agree to his plan, before shuttering off completely. He just stared at him, his face unnaturally blank, and it made the feeling in Merlin's chest clench even tighter. He had asked Arthur how he could make him feel better, and then he'd let him down.
"Fine then," Arthur said, his voice sounding oddly flat. "I'll figure it out on my own." He brushed past Merlin, shoving him back into the bookshelves that had been bracketing them.
Merlin stayed there for a few moments, wondering how he had managed to mess up so badly. He'd just wanted to comfort his friend, but somehow he'd just made it all a hundred times worse.
And now he had to go back and face his friends.
He kept his head down as he weaved back in between shelves and tables, sliding silently back into his chair, trying not to look in the direction of Arthur's now-empty seat.
"Princess still throwing a tantrum then?"
"Don't, Gwaine," Merlin said tiredly. He didn't want to do this now. He didn't want to deal with Gwaine taking shots at Arthur's absence the way he always seemed to whenever Merlin got into an argument with him, especially not when Merlin was the one who messed up.
Luckily, Gwaine picked up on the fact that Merlin was not in the mood for that avenue of jokes. "Well, at least you're free now to complain about your extra class."
Merlin smiled weakly at Gwaine's swift change in topic. "I guess," he muttered. "I do really hate having to give up my Saturday for it," he said, allowing himself to be distracted.
"You are such an idiot," Morgana said, sounding surprisingly frustrated as she glared at Merlin. "You're just completely content to waste your magic, aren't you?"
"He's not an idiot." Harry defended loyally. "And he's better at magic than all of you put together!"
"Debatable," Morgana scoffed, before sighing tiredly. "Look I'm not arguing that he's more powerful, obviously that's true." She rolled her eyes. "But you have access to a branch of magic that has been extinct for hundreds of years. One of the few known experts in the world has been brought to Hogwarts - most likely for you - and you've just been ignoring that resource for almost what? Four months?" The others all stared at her blankly for a moment. "Like I said, idiot."
"It's not like I've been ignoring it," he said defensively, surprised at how much this seemed to bother Morgana. "I spend most of our Defence lessons learning Old Magic, and I practise on my own too."
"Oh yes, learning how to float your cat around is really a great use for the ancient and powerful magic you have access to," she said bitingly.
"Merlin, you have unknown, powerful magic." Mithian began placatingly, deciding to finally look up from her essay in order to play peace-keeper. "Based on what you all told me of what happened in the headmaster's office, he'd just like you to get a better handle on it." Then she turned to Morgana, "And he's obviously using it for more important things, considering he saved your brother's life a few weeks ago," she reminded her chidingly.
"Well he's avoided almost destroying the castle this year, so he's two up from last year," Morgana said snidely.
"She means, you've come a long way already. Learning some proper spells in defence has likely been helping, but you really should be learning as much as you can this year. After all, Professor Nimueh will only be here one year, so you should make the most of her expertise. And besides, we're only going to get even busier next year when we have all of our electives to fit into our schedule too."
Merlin huffed. How did she make it all sound so reasonable?
"But . . . Saturdays . . ." he said helplessly. He was so busy in lessons all week, and then working on homework on Sundays, that he only really had Saturdays spare to spend with Harry. And sure, sometimes his brother joined them when they all piled into the library to work on essays and things, but it wasn't the same as quality time with his brother.
Mithian sighed, "You can just ask if Harry can sit in on the lessons, you know?"
"Wait, really?" Harry asked, ecstatic. "Why aren't I doing that for all your other lessons?"
Mithian turned to him with an indulgently fond look - and Merlin didn't care how long Gwaine and Mithian had been friends, Merlin swore that Harry was her favourite. "Because, Harry darling, you'll be sitting those classes yourself in a few years. It would give you an unfair advantage over your peers. And besides you still have your own supplementary lessons with Madame Pomfrey, don't you?"
"I suppose," he sulked, and she ruffled his hair playfully.
"Exactly," she told him. "But these extra classes will be different; mostly because they'll be absolutely useless to you, but also because they won't coincide with your own lessons." She smiled sarcastically at the both of them, "And this way you can carry on being unhealthily co-dependent."
And this way, Merlin realised, he could keep his promise to Arthur. If Harry came with him to his extra lessons, he wouldn't be alone with Professor Nimueh, and Arthur would have one less thing to worry about!
He grinned, "You're the best!" he told Mithian, dropping a kiss to her forehead, and then Harry's, before rushing to chase after his best friend.
Merlin was not going to let Arthur down.