I own nothing. Ain't it sad..
Everything Belongs to J,K Rowling & BBC Entertainment.
All Harry Potter Characters, Places, Items and main ideas are of belonging to J.K Rowling,
Merlin and all its components its owned by BBC.
I claim no ownership whatsoever.
BOOK 1: Harry Potter & The Philosopher's Stone,
Fate, such a funny little thing. If you believed in it, of course.
Merlin, like just a handful of people, like precious few; did. He had gone through so much hardships and following, so many different goals that it was kind of hard for himself not to trust in it.
You see, it began the day his world ended, when he had tried to protect his friends. And when he had failed, due to her. When he had come back and seen her standing there, he was furious, more than that, he was absolutely livid. Morgana had been a stain of darkness to the world for too long, and she was still alive, why? Why did the Old Religion allow it?
The real question was not why though, but 'how?'
She had to be dead. She had to be…
Arthur's sword, Excalibvr, was forged on dragon's breath. She was supposed to be dead. Merlin remembered Morgana had always been so stubborn, unwilling to be controlled. Going against authority in every turn...
But refusing to die? That was a new low.
She would not be allowed to hurt anyone, ever again. He would see to that… "Merlin?" The woman gasped for air… "Merlin."
Merlin had raised Excalibur again, twice. But he could not do it; he wanted to kick himself hard. He ran to the edge and threw the sword over to the lake… And that made him want to kick himself as well.
He had always felt doubt when it came to Arthur's half-sister. He never had the capacity to come to a decision about her.
During those first eighty years or so he found himself near drowning on emotions. He felt rage on the world, on Morgana; he felt pain on Arthur's death, guilt, sadness.
And then he felt he had no choice, he hated The Old Religion for compelling him to get along with the Murderess. And so did her… They both lacked the choice to part; even if they separated they kept finding each other. They always ended up one in front of the other, it was like a silent tune, and their magic kept calling the other.
The violence between them both did not originally, leave; they fought and insulted each other.
But eventually, they opened to each other... He did not expect it, to find the lady, Morgana used to be inside of her. And a relationship was formed; it was not a loving or friendly relationship then, but a non-aggression resolution of the sort.
They had argued and fought all the time, but she refused to leave, again. She was stubborn, like always. And then years had passed. Slowly, their relationship became friendlier. He trusted her. But he was having a hard time forgiving. And he did try…
When Camelot had fallen, it had been most trialing for them both, even if she denied it.
Merlin had expected the great city to last for many decades, he was even hopeful it would survive a century, or two.
So when Civil War erupted between Arthur's twin sons, barely eighteen years later after his death. He had been dismayed. When the youngest died in the fighting, he had been grieved. Worse because it was he who took a fatherly role with them both, he who raised them.
When at the end Lot tried to control the weak territory and take Camelot to his own and Merlin was forced to fight alongside his Nemesis to protect the remaining prince, Guinevere and all survivors. He never again felt as bad.
Lot died, and both kingdoms were lost to time, Kings rose and fell as the rain above him. And every kingdom became a taunting presence in the earth. Gaius had died shortly after leaving Camelot, and was it then that Merlin had fallen into a great depression himself.
Llacheou and Gwen took control of a small manor on Ireland, and they lived well, and so did their descendants. But hardly as kings and queens that should have they been. He would later on keep a track on their descendants. He amused himself doing so.
Eventually some did become rulers; maybe it was on their blood.
But Morgana and he stayed in the crystal cave at first, living in there, taking their time. Bidding it, waiting the moment to come back. Though, they stayed the same. The world would not suffer the same fate; soon his own branch of magic was gone, leaving him and the high priestess as the last users.
They did leave sometimes, and then it was when they found out.
The Old Religion had given birth to a new magic, attempting to recreate the balance perhaps. For the balance of life and death had been lost, the true magic had declined turning into nothing, disappearing from the face of the Earth, slowly, until half a century later it was gone… Not all of it though, he and Morgana the last true magic users.
The magic that came was much weaker and depended on little sticks, 'wands'. He hated it at first, it was a constant reminder that he had failed. Morgana mocked it and joked about it, but she too held little love it. But he, he just abhorred it. Every time he met a wand-wielder, he was scornful, annoyed at their antics and arrogance.
Some wand-wielders were scornful at the world of the so called Muggles. They had forgotten where they came from, and now they hated that, that was different. They posed a threat to Non-Magical people, and Merlin was not embarrassed to say he fought, and sometimes even killed, Wizards who went as far as try to murder and torture.
Dark Magic seemed not to have fallen as much as good was… Somehow, it might have been the darkness of Uther's and Morgana's making.
So eventually they left the cave, well HE left, and she followed. He became a physician on a small town, even if he could not join the world like himself, he would be a part of it. He wanted to work for that. Morgana became his assistant, and that lasted barely a few years. They eventually faked their deaths, and left.
They did this several times in different ways, on the 630's he became a farmer, 680's he was a philosopher, on the 740's a librarian and then he became a physician again on the 830's and 920's. It just struck home, and he felt pain because of it, but he felt closer to Gaius that way.
On 970's he became an inn keeper.
He tried to stay low. It often worked. But sometimes he would walk forward, guiding the Wizardly world as best he could.
Joining it at once when it formed, a weak and slightly ineffective government, he helped as much as he could. Using the money he earned in anonymous donations. He did create the Order of Merlin, in the sorcerer's honor, using another name. He designed laws and all. The prizes and all were his ideas.
But History started to get distorted; they thought Merlin himself was the founder… And though he did not like it, he distorted history; it was extremely frustrating at first, to see the 'true' magic leaving the world. They were the only place where it still stood. He felt the Old religion still around him. It was not fully gone, but it would never become what it used to be... It was not meant to return, to be used, it was meant to be untouchable. So he erased it from records, and he changed them so to make his life easier.
And wherever he went Morgana would follow him. Always his helper... And then out of sudden he felt it, he forgave her.
They would still fight all the time though. And screamed and insulted each other. And set things on fire... But she would never go. And he would not complain. He was ready to go back, to face the world. But she was not; the world had never been nice to her...
She had blamed it on his hero complex. She did not want to interfere, and neither did he... He was not going to intervene; it was not their place to do so... He did not want to, he just wanted to go and live...
He remembered the first fight they had, she had said things. Things that she had said before... He had called him a traitor, a coward and a fool.
He missed Camelot; he missed Arthur, Gwen and Gaius. He did not belong anymore. They did not; Merlin and Morgana were relics of that that had passed.
It was very stressing for them both, every single things getting in each other's nerves. Until one year a woman had appeared, wishing to stay in the inn... A witch, she used a wand, but Helga Hufflepuff's magic was different. Closer to their own. Something that he had never seen, the mystique of the Old Religion and the 'oddity' of Modern Magic.
So they followed her... They followed the cart, and got to a castle or a castle in building at least. It was beautiful, unique and odd. He realized there was not only one especial witch, but there were three young users of magic... And when they both saw this, they knew... They could intervene in this, they had to.
He got close to the people in charge, he wanted to intervene as soon as possible, but when they told him the plans, the idea of a magic school.
He was wrathful, a few centuries ago he would have full of joy. But building such a place would destroy the mystique and beauty of magic. Any could learn it, and that made it a right, when magic was a gift, something to be honed and studied. He remembered the first time he used a spell, the feeling of success.
Morgana however was fulled of joy by this idea; she learned the new magic from the founders and taught them the Old, for they were blessed by the old Religion. Using the name she had in the time she became the fourth founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, and brought to the castle an adopted daughter, whom she had found and named, Helena.
Merlin watched from the crystal cave. He had no intentions of joining the world now, not without the High Priestess. He saw Helena grow and with her, the school. When the first year came, he came around; this was what the Old Ways wanted... Befriended the rest of the founders, keeping his identity hidden even from the woman that knew him best.
The school began falling apart, Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders had built a chamber, a secret one. To hide a monster of the Old Ways, a basilisk. Morgana had been horrorified, not even she would trifle with such monstrosity. Though the man said it to be for a just purpose, the school closed.
Morgana was furious; the rest of the founders, Godric and Helga; more so.
There was a fight, and the castle was left to rot. He cleaned up the mess.
Brought them all together again. He revealed himself; he went as an old man. 'Dragoon The Great.' as Arthur would say. Salazar claimed the creature destroyed.
And Morgana believed him. Peace came back.
And the school began working again, he spent quite a long time there. He understood now, what the school was to become. Salazar helped him began studying Parsel, a development from the Dragonlord trait inside himself. It would certainly be useful.
It was this time that he created the Order. People began to believe he had studied at the school. That Merlin had been born now. He did nothing to subdue such beliefs.
He had found a place. But deep inside him, his heart knew... It could not last.
And he was right.
Then disaster stroke. Merlin found Morgana was nowhere around, and a few weeks later found her crying in the library. She had been there the entire time; being immortal she did not tire or required neither food nor rest. That is when he learned Helena had died.
Being Immortal was harsh, Morgana and he, they were sustained by the Earth, should they not eat they would survive so only just. She had been broken when he found her, weak.
And when she had been healed, had been devastated; she could not stand the castle anymore. So she left, and THIS time, Merlin was the one who followed.
They went back to before, back to Ealdor, now known as Glen. The year was 1023. Five years later Helga died, she had known they were alive. Apparently, Rowena was regarded to have died. Merlin had been forgotten mostly, and the school had kept on working. He had done it.
On 1030 they received a letter from Salazar. They went to his place and stayed there, until 1034 when witch burnings started on the area and the house was destroyed.
In the 1600's when the International Statute was signed, he influenced some minds to make it happen. It was what the old religion wished from him. He heard it still, all these centuries but still.
And once again they waited, but this time, they did on the crystal cave. Until 1645, when they went back to the world, and from them on. Life became a game, both of them, they lived as they wanted.
Hogwarts, too. They would go there in disguise. Merlin as a teacher, and Morgana as a student. And then Morgana as the teacher and Merlin as the student. And so on, so on. Every 50 years they returned, living as muggles once or twice, variating name, appearance and behavior.
Things changed on 1899, when he met Albus Dumbledore. Future headmaster. And it was on 1945 during the great wars on both Muggle and Wizarding world, that he rose to prominence. And Merlin realised he was the future.
He mantained close, as Dumbledore's very own DA teacher, he protected the young student; knowing what he would be.
And he was right. In 1945, Dumbledore defeated Gellert Grindelwald, took the stick the dark wizard used; a wand he, Merlin himself, had given to a man who helped him cross a swamp. And became Hogwarts' headmaster and chief of Wizengamot, an organization in charge of protecting the interests of Wizard community; a birth of his own Order…
Though, with similar goals he never got along with them, some were serious blood purity maniacs.
Merlin never understood the idea of blood, one either had magic or just did not, wizards or Muggles were still human beings. With emotions, ideas and potential for good.
But that never stopped them from fighting against each other. Even Gwen, after Arthur's death was unable to fully stop it. That is what caused the decline of magic in the first place.
All the pain, all those deaths. And no life. No balance, no peace. Too much hatred...
But it was not Dumbledore who he had to look for, and once again, his effort s were in vain. He had been to rush to see his true purpose, him and her both. It was 1975 when they noticed Lily Evans and James Potter. And both Morgana and he agreed that there was something unique in them.
Morgana was their teacher, and Merlin befriended them, in escence again he was a fifth of a group, and the Marauders never knew. They had not known who they made Homework with.
So the Warlock, and the Priestess kept an eye on them. But they did not foresee the betrayal of Pettigrew. They did not expect it, and so both of them died. And Merlin blamed himself; it was Voldemort, Tom Riddle again.
He did not thought him particularly powerful, just destructive, even Morgana saw in him a monster, Salazar would have been horrified. The boy had been all the shrewdness of Slytherin, but no will for good.
Voldemort however discovered Horcruxes, a spell cast of the old religion. It was originally good magic, to attach the soul using the mirroring of life and death, used to protect the high priests from death. Once they could be made with no killing, but on their decline such power was lost, the soul could not be duplicated anymore just shattered.
Now, Voldemort and other 'wand-wielders' had the need to fragment the soul and divide it. And that was a crime. Merlin hated what they did to the world. It made them more powerful alright, but it gave them in the end, pain and suffering. The creation of such objects brought an enormous loss of Balance.
With those objects, he saw only darkness. He found and destroyed those he could, all over the world; Greece, Rome, England, The United States, Egypt. Everywhere. But Voldemort he did not attack or faced in anyway.
He aided the Ministry and the Order of The Phoenix. But from the sidelines, only.
Every death augmented the imbalance, the wand wielders knew not, and Morgana doubted, but HE was sure; if the destruction remained the magic of wands will dissipate as well. Voldemort's life was an abomination.
He had to die. And Harry Potter, James and Lily's son, was the one to do it. His mother had died to protect him, he was everything Tom was not; loved, cared for, pure. Everything Merlin and Morgana were not.
If they were to kill him, Voldemort, and though they could, Horocruxes, even seven were no match for him or her, he could sense them were they close, he could destroy them with little effort; But should he try the balance may never be restored, and magic will decline even more. His hands were tied.
Harry was the answer. Only he could defeat the so called 'Dark Lord'...
They began the preparations, forgery of documents and stuff; they had done it before several times, but with extra time. And there was no time to loose.
One could say a year was too long, but for two who had live 1500 of those. So they were ready, they could now intervene. They had been waiting for a millennia and a half.
But how? In all these years of waiting, planning, they did not think of how. Morgana wanted to reveal themselves, but Merlin doubted that would do good, his name was now the greatest in Wizard history.
He would be deified! Treated as a god. And Morgana would be hated; so after many fights they decided against it. It left too much strings untouched.
It was Morgana's idea, go as a two students instead of teacher. Keep close to Harry, protect him. Merlin agreed wholeheartedly.
And so they began. They had done this a hundred of times before, but not with a purpose...
Just as means to pass time… Hogwarts was a home for them both, a constant in their lives. When they first went there around 1646, when he saw Helena, when she saw her daughter. Now a Ghost, Morgana had had a breakdown on the feast. He had stood up, grabbed his friend took her to his assigned Office.
All that had finally a meaning.
Finally having a destined path filled Merlin's heart with expectation...
"Merlin!" Morgana screamed. "Diagon Alley awaits!" She walked into the room and giggled. "Want some help with that?" Her hair was pulled back, tight in a bun. And Merlin noticed it was brown, and that she looked eleven again... But in her defense she made a pretty eleven year old, no matter the hair.
Her eyes were the same. Both his and hers, a deal they had made, always to keep the same eyes… Another constant thing, as an immortal constancies became necessary. If he did not have Morgana to begin with, he would have likely lost himself long ago.
He pouted, blushing. "Hey, I have not used one of this in five decades." He gestured down to the robe. And the clumsily made knot, which he struggled to undo. She chuckled softly. He looked eleven too.
It was true though, he had been a muggle his last time, to add a little variety. Constancy and Variety; that was how they lived.
"Allow me." She grabbed his robe and undid the knot quickly. He looked at her face, stunned and embarrased, she smiled. "I was a lady, once. Practice makes perfect." She purred. And then looked at his head. "You sure you want to go as a blond? You look like HIM."
"Arthur?" He asked sourly, she did not answer. Instead she focused on the brown ribbon on his cloak. Merlin felt a spasm of guilt and grief from her before she pushed it back.
All this time, and it was his first as a blond. He really avoided it, so looking into a mirror was not that… painful. Merlin after all had Arthur's eye color and a similar shape.
"You know 'Gana? You look better with black hair." She smiled with a small blush. Merlin did not need his powers to know that her grin was not real. His statement was though.
"I'll keep that in mind." She whispered. He chuckled, and she hugged him. He hugged her back. Slightly awkwardly, he and she were still a complicated old story. A really old, really complicated story.
"Alright, let us go." Morgana said, pulling back... She pass her hand through the robe. "I want to go through Knockturn Alley... Ol' Margo had new shipment today."
"Oh, good..." He said sarcastically. "Then we can buy you a black silk dress and tore it up a bit." Her eyebrows drifted north... Before a mischievous look appeared on her eyes. The Pendragon mischief. Arthur had it, She had it, Arthur's sons had it.
"And I can age you up... Huh?" She said. "Emrys?" He wondered if Uther had it, once. Before he turned a psychotic murderer.
"And I will use a Tornado on you. Again." He snorted, she grimaced and glared... He chuckled. Their lives had turned into banther, he did with her what he had done with Arthur.
She slapped the back of his head, rather hard. "That is not funny, Merlin. It really hurt."
He rubbed his head. "Huh, sorry. The Fomorroh hurt too, you know." He said it jokingly, but he obviously did not feel like that. She nodded with soft eyes. Merlin felt through his powers the grief, and self-hate she often had for herself.
"I know. Sorry for that." She sat down in the couch nearby looking at the windows. "And for the Serkets, and for Gwen and for Arthur." She swallowed.
"How can I go back, Merlin?" She said, looking at him with a guilty and pained face. "I have only the capacity to hurt." A tear slid off her face, she cleaned it with the back of her hand. She hated looking weak and fragile; Uther had always said those were characteristics of a true noble lady, but she wanted nothing to oblige the tyrant. Not even in death.
"You know that is not true..." He kneeled and held her hand. "Morgana you made a horrible mistake, but for the right reason." At the very beginning the priestess held her views and actions harshly, naming them 'Necessary evil'.
"I did not. It was not a mistake..." She sobbed, but her eyes were narrowed in anger. He felt rage as she said it... Not a mistake? "There were thousands of them." However, lately she condemmned herself more than he ever did. Their roles had funnily been reversed.
And he did not precisely like it.
"Morgana, you have the chance to make things right, now." She took out a pocket neckerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Take it." She nodded. And looked at his eyes.
"Merlin...?" She mumbled gently. Unable to pull back of his hug.
"Mmmmh?" He responded thumbing his fingers in her shoulder.
She cleared her throat. "Margo is waiting..."
Merlin nodded. Pulling off, ears a reddish pink. He opened the door to her, and walked beside her as they raced down the stairs of the mansion they now had. One thought on his head…
Diagon Alley here we go.