Chapter 17 - Complicated Families

Arthur had been quiet in the few weeks leading up to Christmas. He didn't necessarily avoid them, but he was quiet, and withdrawn. He continued to sit and work with them in the library, and was desk-mates with Merlin whenever Gryffindor and Hufflepuff shared a class, but it was like he wasn't fully there. Any smiles he had were wan, any laughter was just a token chuckle to acknowledge the joke, and anything he said was only in response to someone speaking directly to him.

It had taken Merlin a few days to notice.

Their group of friends were often a rather rambunctious lot, so at first Arthur's silence had slipped through the cracks. But on days where Harry was busy with the Weasley twins, and Gwaine was deciding to bunk off his homework, the change was obvious. Even when some of their quieter friends, like Lance and Percy from Ravenclaw, joined them, the change in mood was apparent despite the extra numbers bolstering their study group.

Merlin knew this change had started after their altercation in the library, but he had thought that that issue was resolved. Arthur didn't want Merlin to be alone with Professor Nimueh, and while he had wavered for a moment, he had managed to secure Harry as a companion to his extra classes. Arthur had been relieved when he was told, and Merlin had thought that was that.

But evidently that was not the case.

"You need to eat, Em."

"Sorry," he said, jarred out of his thoughts, and pulled his eyes away from the Gryffindor table, and back to the bowl in front of him. He supposed it was quite full still. "I'm really not that hungry," he confessed, sending a pleading look at Gwaine to drop the matter.

Gwaine sighed. "I know you're not hungry, you never are when you work yourself into a state about something."

He looked at Gwaine's tired and disappointed face and quickly shovelled a few spoonfuls of porridge into his mouth. They were tough to swallow down, but the little bit of tension he saw ease out of Gwaine's face made it worth it.

The food settled heavy in his stomach, but Merlin continued eating several more bites in an effort to stop worrying his friend. Merlin was already tangled up, worried how to fix things with one of his friends, he didn't want to upset another.

He took in the distraction of owls swooping down in relief. Hopefully Gwaine's attention would be taken up by a letter or the newspaper or something, and then Merlin could discretely empty the rest of his bowl. It was quite a sound plan, Merlin thought, only for it to be completely thrown off when an owl, instead, landed in front of him.

The heavy feeling in his stomach twisted at the handwriting on the envelope, and the knowledge that there was really only one person who might be writing to Merlin. Only one person who might care enough to write that didn't already live in this castle - though that qualifier had been up for debate recently.

"Is that from Gaius, then?"

Merlin nodded mechanically, detaching the letter and picking a bit of bacon from the table to feed to the owl before it got any sort of idea to peck or claw at him.

He braced himself before opening the letter.

Dear Merlin,

I know you were displeased with me this summer, and I have tried to give you your space, but Yule is approaching, and I would dearly like to spend the holidays with you, my boy. I have spoken with the Headmaster, and he has assured me that young Harry would be free to join us, so you would not have to spend the holiday apart. I know you boys have had precious few happy holidays, and I would like to be able to give you both one.

Truthfully, I am ashamed of how we left things, Merlin. And these last few months without hearing from you has only strengthened my wish to resolve things between us. My old friend would be furious with me for letting this uneasy peace go on for so long.

- Merlin narrowed his eyes, 'uneasy peace' was an interesting way to describe the two of them pretending the other didn't exist. -

I know I am no substitute for your parents, but I had hoped for you to come to see my home as our home. I had thought we had made some progress on that during the early part of the summer, but I realise now that I lost what little trust I had gained from you when I refused to stand against my old friend.

But I ask, perhaps selfishly, for another chance. I fear, in the years since losing my daughter, that I have forgotten what it is to be a parent - and I have most certainly forgotten what it is like to be a parent for one so very young. I do not ask for your forgiveness, dear boy, for I know I have not yet earned it. I just ask that you allow me to try again.

If nothing else, little Luna would be thrilled to see you over break, she is excitedly awaiting more stories about Hogwarts, and very eager to share her own tales of her and her father's adventures since the summer.

I know I am asking much of you, Merlin, and please know, I will understand should you choose to remain in the castle over break. At the very least, I hope you might be open to corresponding with me through letters once more, as I have missed you, dear boy.

I hope to hear from you soon,

- Gaius

Merlin wasn't exactly sure how he felt about all that.

In all honesty, once he had gotten on the Hogwarts Express in September, Merlin had done his best to put Gaius out of his mind. Sometimes, when practising his magic, some advice and tips from his guardian would pop into his head, and Merlin would quickly do his best to get them back out of it. Sometimes when he saw Aithusa attacking his quills, he would remember her hunting gnomes in the garden, and then try his best to forget it. Sometimes in his common room, a particular shade of yellow would remind him of the bedroom walls they had painted by hand together, and so Merlin would go and work in the library instead.

He didn't much like thinking about Gaius. He didn't like thinking about how much he had enjoyed living with him those first few weeks. He didn't like how much he had trusted the old man, and how kind he had thought him to be. And he hated how wrong he had been proven the only time he had really asked Gaius for anything.

"So?" Gwaine asked after it was clear Merlin had finished reading the letter. "What did Gaius want?" He not-so-subtly pushed the half-eaten bowl of porridge closer to Merlin.

"He's just trying to make plans for Christmas," Merlin told him generally, not mentioning the generally apologetic tone of the letter. Although - he scanned it once again quickly, to double check - Gaius had not actually apologised at all.

Gwaine's eyes' narrowed. "You don't sound excited," he commented. "I thought you'd be looking forward to your first proper Christmas."

"Last year was a proper Christmas," Merlin snapped, remembering him and Harry sharing their first ever Christmas dinner, together in the school kitchens, and then falling asleep together in the Hufflepuff common room - together and safe for the first time in a long time. Merlin doubted he would ever have a Christmas that would top that.

His friend held up his hands in surrender at Merlin's tone, but that just made Merlin feel bad again. Gwaine was not the problem right now. He was not who Merlin was really upset with.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Gwaine said. "I just thought you'd be happier about your first Christmas at home," he explained.

Merlin didn't know how to tell him that he didn't want to think of Gaius's house as home. A thought like that was dangerous, and was only likely to lead to disappointment.

Gwaine had been so good about Merlin's relatives last year. It was his insistence that Merlin had gone to talk to Professor Sprout, which had inevitably led to the Headmaster bringing Harry to Hogwarts. Gwaine was the reason Merlin got to spend the last year with his brother. Gwaine was the reason Harry was safe.

Merlin didn't want to complain now to Gwaine about his new guardian.

"I've only spent one summer there," Merlin explained instead. "It doesn't exactly feel like home."

"You know, it never will if you don't let yourself spend time there."

"I'll talk to Harry about it later," Merlin said, dismissing the topic (not in the mood to appreciate Gwaine's unexpected wisdom). The invitation involved Harry too; Merlin wouldn't be making a decision without discussing it with him first.

What mattered most was that they spent Christmas together. The two of them.

Perhaps, Harry even wanted to spend the holiday with Professor McGonagall. Merlin was not particularly close to the woman, but he knew Harry liked living with her far more than he had living in his isolated room of last year.

He wished, idly, that families didn't have to be so complicated, before dismissing the thought. Harry was his family, and there was nothing complicated between the two of them.

It was not until they were on their way to Professor Nimueh's extra class of the week, the following day, that Merlin managed to bring it up.

"So," he began casually, not wanting to colour Harry's opinion with his own indecision, "Gaius invited us both to spend Christmas with him this year."

Harry snorted. "Like we'd want to spend a holiday with him," he replied scathingly.

Which was when Merlin realised, with a sinking heart, that despite his own misgivings, he was disappointed to have the idea so quickly dismissed.

Somehow, he had let himself consider and wonder how the holiday might go with Gaius. He had been imagining an apology and a welcoming hug, opening presents underneath a tree like a real family might. He had been picturing sitting with a cup of hot chocolate, Harry beside him, while Gaius told him stories of how his parents had spent some of their first Christmases together. He had been thinking about what he would buy for his guardian, and maybe even little Luna too.

Well, he supposed he would still do that last one. He'd just have to make sure it was something that could be easily delivered by owl.

"Of course," Merlin told him. "I'll . . . I'll send him an owl to let him know we won't be coming."

Harry stopped abruptly in the empty hallway, turning to him. "You don't seriously want to go see him?" his brother asked incredulously.

"I didn't say that," Merlin defended.

"You didn't need to!"

Harry's gaze darted quickly from eye to eye as he stared at Merlin, as though trying to puzzle him out. "Why would you want to go back there?" he asked, disbelieving, and Merlin couldn't help his wince at Harry's tone.

Was he being stupid? Was it that unbelievable that he'd want to visit his guardian.

"He asked for a second chance," Merlin muttered, feeling like a fool all of a sudden.

Harry scoffed. "As if he deserves one."

"Well what if it was McGonagall?" Merlin snapped. "What if your precious 'Aunt Minnie' was the one who messed up and was asking for a second chance? You wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it then!"

"She wouldn't do that!" Harry insisted stubbornly. "She wouldn't betray me like he did to you! You trusted him and he -"

"Why do you think she's so much better?!" Merlin interrupted, angry and confused. "She didn't say a word against the headmaster at that hearing either! Don't you think if we'd had a professor on our side they'd have taken the complaint more seriously? She could have helped us and she didn't. She isn't better than Gaius, she just came up with a compromise that he couldn't, because he's not a professor."

"Fine then!" Harry spat. "Go spend Christmas with him if he matters to you that much!"

"Maybe I wi-"

"Boys!" a sharp voice interrupted. "That is quite enough screaming in the hallways," Professor Nimueh said, staring down at the two of them disapprovingly.

Merlin hadn't even noticed her getting that close.

"And if you are quite finished?" she asked, looking between the pair of them. "You, Mister Emrys, are late for your lesson."

Merlin nodded, muttering a quick and quiet, "Sorry," eager to get her reproachful gaze off him.

"And will Mister Potter be joining us today, as agreed?" she pressed, this time staring down Harry instead.

His brother was glaring up at her, but, to Merlin's surprise, still gave a stiff nod.

Professor Nimueh's eyes narrowed. "I will not tolerate any more of this in my classroom," she said warningly. "I did not volunteer my weekends to listen to children squabbling."

Merlin saw Harry stiffen at the description, and his jaw tighten. He silently prayed that his brother was not about to start argu-

"We were not squabbling."

Professor Nimueh looked unimpressed at the correction. "Are you squabbling over my use of the word 'squabbling'?"

Harry's face reddened, and Merlin stared at her incredulously, noting the slight lift at the corner of her mouth, and wondering why she seemed to be amusing herself by provoking a ten-year-old.

"We're not squab -"

"Let's just go. Now," Merlin interrupted, sending a warning glare towards Harry to not get in an argument with a professor. "We don't want to take up any more of Professor Nimueh's time this weekend, do we, Harry?

"No," Harry muttered churlishly, not removing his rather resentful glare from Professor Nimueh's back.

Merlin found himself rather glad that his brother had not yet started learning any magic of his own yet, because if he had, Merlin was almost certain he would have just cursed a professor.

He, at least, followed the professor quietly, silently glad that she had interrupted their argument before he had said something he would have regretted.

Morgana was right, Harry thought. Professor Nimueh is a bitch.

He bet Arthur was probably on to something too, and she was up to no good. Which meant - no matter how angry he was with Merlin for wanting to go back to Gaius's for Christmas - Harry wasn't going to leave his brother alone with another untrustworthy adult. Which, in Harry's opinion, was most of them.

Maybe even all of them.

Merlin's arguments about Aunt Minnie - about McGonagall - rang true through Harry's mind. Because while she had given Harry a place to stay, a place he could be safely away from the death eater that freely roamed the halls of this school, she hadn't exactly petitioned for Snape's removal either. Was she any better than Gaius then?

She was strict, but kind. She had a lot of rules, but they were reasonable ones that usually made sense to Harry. And if they didn't make sense, Harry could tell her that and she would explain it to him without shouting at him. She would ask him about his lessons with Madam Pomfrey, and help him when she saw him struggling with his homework - even if she was strict about doing said homework before he went flying with the twins. (But she wasn't like that about his time with Merlin, she never restricted his time with his brother.)

She was, in all cases, the complete opposite to the Dursleys.

Harry knew he wasn't hers, and that he had been kind-of foisted upon her the same way he had the Dursleys. But she didn't hate him for it, the way that they had.

But, despite their blood relation, Harry had never been family to the Dursleys. But McGonagall - Aunt Minnie - had acted in the ways he had always hoped his aunt would have. She treated him like he thought family might. Not spoiled and pampered like Dudley (which Harry was glad of, because he never wanted to turn out like that), but cared for, like family might.

Harry thought, for a moment, that perhaps he understood why his brother might be willing to forgive Gaius after all. Because, if Gaius was anything like Aunt Minnie, then maybe he was worth a second chance.

There was still one thing Merlin was wrong about though. Aunt Minnie hadn't betrayed Harry for Dumbledore like Gaius did to Merlin. Because she was his Aunt Minnie yet, when all of that had happened, she hadn't been his guardian yet, but she had still found a way to protect Harry.

Maybe . . . maybe she would still choose Dumbledore over Harry again in the future.

But if she did, Harry was pretty sure he would forgive her for it eventually.

When Merlin's lesson finally finished, Harry left without a word. He had done his job, he'd not left his brother alone with Professor Nimueh, but Harry didn't think he was ready to talk yet.

Instead, he did something he couldn't remember ever choosing to do on a Saturday afternoon, and went back to the Gryffindor Head of House quarters.

He felt a bit foolish opening the door after muttering the password - like he ought to knock first before coming inside. But he didn't knock, because this was his home.

Aunt Minnie was there, sat in the middle of her comfy red settee, a tartan blanket thrown over her lap, and a stack of essays to one side of her. The other side of the sofa was empty. It was the seat Harry usually sat in, because this was him home.

"Harry? Whatever is the matter?" She had looked up from whatever essay or quiz she was grading, and was staring at him with concern etched into the lines of her face. Which was when Harry noticed that he had been standing frozen in the doorway for quite some time.

"I . . ." He realised he didn't know how to explain what the matter was. That he had fought with Merlin? That he had been thinking about the Dursleys? That he was worried she would turn him away one day if the headmaster ever asked it of her?

Harry stared at her blankly, noting absently that she looked cosy wrapped up on the settee, with an empty space beside her.

He didn't know what to say, but Harry knew, suddenly, and without a doubt, exactly what he wished to do. Grabbing his courage while it lasted, Harry flung himself into the seat beside Aunt Minnie, throwing his arms around her middle, while he buried his face into her tartan blanket.

He felt her freeze beneath him, and Harry was bombarded with half a dozen memories of the times he had tried to hug his Aunt Petunia, when he was too little to know better. Of being shouted at, shoved away, and thrown in his cupboard for the audacity.

. . . And then a gentle hand was sinking into his hair, fingers softly running across his scalp. Another hand landed lightly on his back, and began tracing circles there. Harry breathed out slowly, his shoulders relaxing. This, Harry thought desperately, was his home.

He realised, guiltily, that he must have been clinging to Aunt Minnie rather tightly. "'m sorry," he muttered into the blanket, loosening his hold on her.

"Hush now, none of that, dear," she chided gently. "Just tell me what's the matter, dear, and I'm quite sure we'll be able to fix it."

Harry shook his head, knowing that this wasn't something someone else could fix, the action causing him to bury himself further into her warmth.

The hand in his hair stopped, and Harry bit back a noise of discontent. Instead, the hand moved to cup his face, lifting his chin so that he was instead looking Aunt Minerva in the eye.

Harry caved almost immediately.

"Me and Merlin had a fight," he confessed.

"Merlin and I," she corrected absently, before adding, "Would you like to tell me what it was about?"

And so Harry did. He told her about the letter from Gaius, about his brother wanting to spend Christmas with the man, while Harry couldn't imagine wanting to go back there. He told her about how the fight escalated, all the way up until -

"And then he said . . . He said what Gaius did wasn't much different from you, since you didn't side with us against Dumbledore at the school board meeting either."

Aunt Minnie's hand paused on his back for a moment, before it carried on in gentle circles. "I didn't," she said slowly. "And how do you feel about that?"

Harry shrugged, looking away from her. "Doesn't matter," he mumbled.

"On the contrary," she told him. "I think it matters very much what you think."

He paused for a moment, before admitting, "I still wish Snape was gone." His fingers played idly with the tassels of the blanket. "But I feel safer, here with you, than I did before. And . . . and just because we disagree, doesn't mean we're not family, right?" he asked cautiously.

"That's exactly right, Harry." He finally looked back up at her, to see a soft smile and slightly watery eyes. "Now, do you think, perhaps, that your Merlin might feel the same way about his guardian?" she proposed gently.

Harry nodded silently. He had already come to that conclusion earlier.

"And that perhaps you got upset, not that your brother might forgive Mister Wilson, and wishes to spend the holidays at home, but that you, also, wish to spend Christmas at home? And so that might mean spending Christmas apart?"

He nodded miserably, suddenly realising how badly he wanted to spend Christmas with Aunt Minnie, how badly he wanted to spend it with a family he knew cared about him. And he could only have that if both Merlin and Aunt Minnie were there. He didn't want to spend the holiday missing either one of them.

Last Christmas he had spent half of the day in his cupboard. He had gotten the best Christmas present ever, seeing Merlin for the first time in months and getting to come to Hogwarts. But this Christmas he wanted to be able to enjoy the whole day. And he wanted to spend it with his whole family.

He wished families didn't have to be so complicated.

"Is that selfish?" he asked aloud. He hadn't meant to be, but he supposed he was acting rather like Dudley, wanting to have everything his way, and then throwing a tantrum when he wasn't getting it. "I didn't mean to be," he swore.

"No, dear, it's not selfish," Aunt Minnie reassured him. But Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was just placating him like Aunt Petunia always did to Dudley. Although, he couldn't help the slight smile he had at the thought - after all, Aunt Petunia only did that because she loved Dudley so much. It was a nice thought that Aunt Minnie could love him that much too.

"It's perfectly normal to want to spend holidays with your family. And I'm sure Merlin only got so upset because he wants the same thing you do," she said reasonably.

"But that doesn't fix anything," Harry said sadly. "He still wants to spend Christmas with Gaius, and I still want to spend it . . . I still want to spend it with you. So that means we can't spend it together."

"Of course you can," she said simply. "Your Merlin could go home during the break, while you stay here, and then we could simply Floo over on Christmas Morning so you can spend the day together. Or, Merlin can Floo here, for Christmas day, and spend the rest of his holiday with Mister Wilson. Or you could go with him, and the pair of you could Floo back together to spend Christmas day at Hogwarts, or I could simply join you for the day over there instead. As long as Mister Wilson is amenable, you have lots of ways you could spend your holiday."

When explained so simply, and with a whole host of solutions, Harry suddenly realised why some people went to adults for help with their problems.

Morgana was struggling with the thought of what to get her father for Christmas.

It was such a mundane problem to have, all things considered, but it was one she was struggling with nonetheless.

Uther had always been impossible to buy for. What do you get for the man that can buy anything he wants for himself? Truthfully, Morgana hadn't really concerned herself with that thought in the past. Of course, this time last year she still had the mind and memories of a child, and children rarely put much thought into what to gift a guardian.

Really, she didn't know why she was having so much trouble with it. She ought to just buy the man a box of chocolates, and be done with it. But there was an incredibly frustrating part of her that wanted to do more.

It was the part of her that she tried to push down. The part that felt so immensely grateful that she had a father that loved her despite her magic.

Not that she knew whether or not Uther was, in actuality, her father in this life. She suspected, if he was, that he would do all he could to cover up that secret, just like he had in their first life. He would not be able to stand the secret of his betrayal of his beloved wife getting out.

And it was thoughts like that that made her want to say 'fuck it', and stop giving Uther Pendragon any more of a second's thought.

Morgana wished she could say that she left all of her anger at her father behind the day she killed him, but instead, it was one of the few acts that she found herself not regretting upon waking into her second life.

Uther Pendragon had been a power-fueled, hypocritical, genocidal maniac. And he had deserved to die.

She only wished that her anger and fear of him had died with him, or had at least died with her.

She knew, for certain, that that version of her father would never return - Nimueh had insured it. But it still left Morgana in a difficult place of never quite knowing how to feel about the man.

She so wished her family was not so complicated.

Somehow that particular conundrum had boiled over into this.

Mithian slammed the book in front of her shut with an impatient clap. "Enough of the sighing," she snapped. "What could possibly be in that magazine causing you that much grief."

Morgana sighed (okay, yes, perhaps she had been doing that a lot today). "It's what's not in it that's the problem." Mithian raised an inquisitive brow. "I don't know what to get Uther for Christmas," she explained, defeated. It was rather a simplification of her issue, but a summary nonetheless.

Arthur scoffed, and Morgana wondered whether it was at her trivial problem, or at the fact that he didn't seem to believe that's all there was to it.

Arthur had been annoyingly perceptive recently. He was quiet, and seemed to listen more than he spoke - which was nothing like the egotistical braggart she was used to dealing with - he regarded her and most of her actions with an annoying amount of scepticism. Annoying, because Morgana had rather a lot to hide.

"Well alright, what are you getting him then?" she challenged, deciding for herself that his reaction was due to the former concern.

"Just some Honeydukes chocolates, and a fancy quill." He shrugged. "I figured any muggles who saw him use it would just put it down to us being posh, instead of his children being a part of a mediaeval secret society." Morgana rolled her eyes - a fountain pen, they would put down to Uther being posh, but a quill would certainly be pushing it. At least, it would certainly help any correspondence of his to the wizarding world be better received.

"There," Mithian said, still eyeing Morgana's magazine with distaste. "Surely he can't be that hard to buy for. What are his interests?"

Morgana shrugged. "Power?"

"Money?" Arthur suggested helpfully.

"Control?"

"His enemies cowering at his feet?"

Morgana smirked. "The whole of magical Britain bowing before him?"

Arthur cracked a smile. "And the rest of Britain bowing too?"

". . . I see."

Mithian did not, in fact, see.

Morgana hummed. "Actually," she told them, consideringly, an idea sparking, "We might be onto something."