"Well Merlin?" Arthur was hovering near the door to his sorcery rooms at Camelot. His father had prepared increasingly larger potions space and ingredients storehouses for him and other trusted sorcerers of Camelot, most vetted by him in the years he'd been in service to them.
Harry turned to note something more in his notebook. Arthur had come early, though thankfully not early enough to see Harry placing his father's organs into jars for further testing later when time wasn't so pressing.
"It was poison Arthur," Harry replied finally looking up at his friend, whose eyes were still bloodshot.
Harry washed his hands and summoned a bag he kept nearby and extracted a small pouch of herbs and a smaller bottle of a potion and poured one onto the other.
"What is that Merlin?" He asked, his voice still raw and full of emotion.
"It would not do well for a king to be crowned looking as you do," Harry explained gently.
"Upset that my father was murdered?" Arthur spat a harshness in his voice full of pain and anger.
Harry raised the pouch to the man's eyes and held it there for a few moment, and again to the other and then gently pulled him to where a mirror stood.
"There," Harry said gently. "Much more kingly."
Arthur laughed, for a moment. "How is it you can be so bright Merlin?"
"Practice in the face of danger Arthur," he paused to look into the young king's eyes, even if he had not been coronated yet, the path was clear. "I will discern who it was that poisoned your father," Harry paused.
"And then?" Arthur asked his voice cracking.
Harry shrugged. "And then you get to decide what you wish be done."
Harry Potter sat in a tavern somewhere near Caer-Mincip, it had taken him some time to work out who had poisoned the water that had ultimately led to Uther's death.
He'd never trusted the man, Arthur he did he was his father after all. Uther had reminded him of many people in his past, and the future. But Harry trusted Arthur with his life, there was something to him, a true friend.
Arthur had charged him with finding the person who'd killed his father, and dealing with them. It was unfortunate he had not heeded his advice to go after the one who'd ordered the murder, Arthur just wanted the one who'd done it.
Maybe it was his over 100,000 year age, although he wasn't properly counting that, but he'd hoped that Arthur would see his way.
It was somewhat disappointing to discover that the person who'd done the poisoning wasn't magically inclined, that could have been interesting, instead it was just a man who knew enough, and was willing to work for a price.
Said man sat down in front of him. "Someone said to look for a man dressed in long robes," he said.
Harry didn't look down, it was more of a jacket, based on one of his old Galactica jackets; lots of pockets.
He just nodded and pulled out a bag from one and flung some of the powder within at the man who immediately sneezed in between the sneeze Harry threw another handful.
"One day, the phrase 'tripping balls' will probably apply to how you're feeling," Harry commented idly as he rose from the table, pocketing the powder. No one in the tavern paid him any attention as he grabbed the man and pulled him outside.
The two men disappeared with the barest of noise.
Arthur looked over the balcony as Merlin walked into the inner walls of the castle, a man with his hands bound.
Merlin waved and briefly the man tried to escape. With a motion and movement far faster than Arthur thought Merlin could he leapt out and kicked the man's legs.
Arthur beckoned for Merlin to bring him the prisoner.
Returning to his throne room Arthur marvelled at Merlin's abilities, he seemed never to age, he didn't even have a beard! Yet he talked as though he had lived several lifetimes and still found joy in the strangest of places. He knew not where Merlin disappeared to for months at a time, offering only a raven should he need to be contacted.
They, Arthur knew were a recent addition to his home, and they like Merlin seemed to know far more than on first glance.
He knew, setting Merlin on this task he would succeed, that he had done so in such swift timings, with his father's death still raw in his memory. Thinking on Merlin at least distracted him for a short moment.
"Merlin, this is the man?" Arthur greeted in a cold tone looking at the man.
"He is, and will not be able to answer questions for a while, if that is what you wish," Merlin explained as he reached out, as though grabbing an invisible force at the man's legs forcing him into a kneeling position.
Arthur walked forward gripping the man's face, he had a dazed almost drunken expression. He looked to Merlin. "You cannot raise him from this?"
Merlin shook his head. "He'll come down in a hours."
"From what?" Arthur demanded.
"Off of the mushrooms," Merlin answered simply and then turned. "Let me know if you need me further Arthur," he called without being dismissed from his company.
He'd seen plenty of big battles in his long, long life, between wand waving groups against psychotic mask wearing ones, huge space battles, and battles Pharaoh waged, and ones that Uther waged, albeit mostly from a distance.
And now here he was, once more with Arthur.
He was probably a 1000 years too early for the telescope, and using his binoculars wouldn't really help matters, even if he could put it down to magic for Arthur's sake. He couldn't duplicate them. While he'd had some success with the glass in his house, some of that had come from the raptors along with a few experiments of his.
He didn't really need it, they were two large armies separated by a dry lake, two armies waiting to go into battle in the height of summer in southern Britain.
He'd come, in part to make sure everyone stayed hydrated with a mixture of his own electrolyte drink that he'd come up with. Although he still knew a lot of them would die.
"Merlin, I've had word, they wish to meet, come with me," Arthur ordered.
"Of course," Harry said drawing the linen jacket he was wearing together and tying it up.
Walking to distance out he realised quickly the commander of the opposing side had someone like himself with him.
"Arthur, when we meet them do not go any further than where I stop," Harry warned.
"You know him?" Arthur queried.
"The sorcerer beside him is an acquaintance," Harry explained calmly.
Arthur stopped walking. Harry moved around to stand in front of him to block the approaching couple's view. "You know our enemy?"
"I've had him to dinner several times," Harry said brightly, amused at the annoyed expression on his friend's face. "Do not concern yourself Arthur, just know he's capable."
"As you Merlin?" Arthur teased.
Harry shook his head. "No."
Harry enveloped Salazar in a hug, it had been several years since they'd met on the battlefield. He'd been summoned by the younger man to a site in Scotland.
"Come Merlin you can meet my friends," he said with an eagerness.
Harry grinned broadly, he knew where he was, who Salazar was and he guessed who his friends were.
"The great Merlin?" Godric Gryffindor appraised him for a moment and then went back to his meal. "You're not much of a man," he shrugged.
"No," Harry said calmly. "I am much more of a wizard."
This made Godric Gryffindor look up and move his hand to his sword.
"Helga Hufflepuff," introduced Salazar seemingly to break the tension between him and Godric "And Rowena Hufflepuff."
"We have met Salazar, but I did not realise you were Merlin then," Rowena commented.
Harry smiled and gave half a shrug, when they'd met in northern Europe there'd been several magical people at the gathering, few had actually used their names, they had been there to share knowledge not to promote themselves. "None of of raised our names there Rowena," he commented raising his eyebrows at her. "I don't go beating my chest about who I am," he finished."
"Yet you consort with Arthur?" Godric commented with a sniff.
Harry shrugged again. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, he'd known Salazar Slytherin for at least 15 years, and had heard tales of his friends.
He remembered being in Hogwarts, and being in a house there, vaguely he recalled there had been a hat involved. And he remembered the gold banners and some of the tales of Gryffindor house, but not much of the man, if he even had learnt anything. His memories of those days came and went with visceral detail when he wished to remember them.
"I've been in the service of Camelot for…" Harry trailed off as he tried to add up how long it had been. "Perhaps longer than you have lived."
Now he had the attention of all of them, even Salazar whom he'd been friendly with for some time.
"And you have no wand to wield your magic, if you have it?" Godric queried as he put down his spoon.
Harry shrugged, he'd not needed one, until the battle where he and Salazar had fought, after that and doing some stupid things on the battlefield he'd constructed a staff for himself to ground some of his magic, but wielding it, that he took a different path.
Holding out his hand he pushed Godric Gryffindor back into his chair and then up into the air.
He struggled to remove his wand from his heavy cloak.
Harry disapparated as he aimed his wand, letting Godric fall until he reappeared on the other side of the room catching him before he fell to his chair but long enough for him to extract his wand. Then he disapparated again as he spun around, and again.
Before reapparated next to Helga Hufflpuff and lowered Gryffindor to his seat.
"I could have killed you for that game Merlin," Godric ground out, still not having lowered his wand.
"Greater people and places have tried," Harry challenged, reaching across the table and grabbing Godric's wand from his hand to look at it. "Interesting," Harry looked closely at it before sniffing the wood, trying to discern what it was.
"You don't need a wand Merlin?" Helga asked from beside him.
He shook his head. He'd not used one for over…well…that was a figure none would believable.
"Merlin is older than he appears, when I first encountered him I knew he was more than a simple potion brewer," Salazar started casually, trying again to diffuse the situation.
"In my time here in Britain I have not needed a wand," Harry looked from Helga to Godric "There is value in wands, and there is much magic in not using one."
"How is it we have not come upon you in our travels, a wizard without a wand?" Godric asked gruffly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I travel where I wish, I do not limit myself to wherever you travel perhaps?"
"And where have you travelled Merlin?" Rowena enquired as Godric went back to eating.
"To the far east and further, to the wilds north and the far off lands; of the southern hemisphere," Harry paused. "Wherever I can go."
"And Camelot?" Godric asked. "What of your king there?"
"I knew Uther as King before I knew as so Arthur, Camelot has been a home and a place of living for many years," Harry paused and nodded towards Salazar. "I fought on a battlefield against Salazar, on opposite sides," he paused as the witches and wizards exchanges glances. "It did not harm our friendship, we continued to meet on the continent and around."
Godric nodded. "You separate your life well then Merlin?"
"I try Godric, I try, I would invite you all to come to my home, within the lands of Camelot, see my life if you wish," Harry offered.
"You might be able to help, with what we wish to create," Helga wondered.
"Salazar has spoken occasionally," Harry began.
"Oh? What of?" Godric wondered.
"Of a school for all those who can wield magic," Harry began.
"All those of certain breeding Merlin, we cannot teach all," Salazar said quickly.
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked over at Helga and Godric, the former seemed embarrassed, the latter looked to Harry's surprise and seemed to acknowledge his curiosity at Salazar's reaction.
Harry knew that Salazar harboured some ideas like that, he'd tried when they'd met to steer him away from those thoughts and ideas, occasionally he thought he'd succeeded at least in part.
Harry waited at the entrance to his property. He had greatly improved the wards over the years. The trees sourced from all over the world had grown, they'd been trimmed, cut back, regrown. It had been…about 30 years since Arthur had been crowned, which made it about 50 or maybe 60 years he'd been here in Camelot, he wasn't really sure. He certainly didn't look the however old he was, it was either many hundred thousand years or…at least 80 years or something. He'd barely grown a beard, maybe Merlin could be beardless he'd wondered? The two magical people walked along the path towards him. He'd known they'd arrived a few hours ago, through more mundane methods; those in the village sending word.
"Merlin!" Godric shouted in greeting "How long have you been waiting for us?"
"Not long," Harry greeted warmly. It had been more than a few years since he'd invited them, but he had met them a few more times since then here and there. Much to Salazar's annoyance it seemed he and Godric got on better each time, especially after Godric discovered he wasn't one of those 'bidders of the monarchy'.
"It was unusually difficult to locate the path here Merlin, your doing?" Helga wondered.
Harry nodded. "I have lived here for some time, the paths are familiar to those who are familiar," he motioned for them to stop before they passed the open threshold between the totems and held out his hand. "Touch here," he said.
"Your magic?" Helga enquired as Godric joined her.
Harry nodded as he held his hand against it as well, thinking for a few moments. "Come on."
"And what would have happened Merlin, had we not?" Godric wondered.
Harry paused for a moment and smiled. "That would depend on your intent, some, they're just befuddled, they turn around go back the way they came. The path doesn't stop everyone."
"And if we continued?" Helga pressed.
Harry smiled carefully again. "Those that have intended me harm, now guard places, as statues, or just as stone, they have ample warning, the uninvited are given many warnings."
"I still prefer a bath Merlin!" Godric exclaimed.
"I can draw one, I have one outside," Harry paused to pour the man some ale.
"Outside? Whatever for?" Helga wondered.
"I like to lie in it at night, watching the stars," Harry answered in a slight dreamlike tone.
"For what?" Godric asked confused.
"Old friends and new stories," Harry answered simply.
Many, many, many, many, years later…
Hermione Granger looked at the country hall she'd been invited to, it was an old community hall on the outskirts of Dartmoor. She hadn't even needed to plot it on a magical map, she'd been able to look it up on her computer and drive here herself.
She had enough apparating around and magic for work, but this was a curious mystery. An invitation from what appeared to be the Order of Merlin, the seal had looked really worn but the spells she'd utilised to determine its provenance suggested it was genuine.
She was the first to arrive, by way of arriving about half an hour early, after looking around the hall and checking it inside and out she'd returned to her vehicle. Not her usual one, she'd rented this, just to make sure it would sit…un-noticed. It was an old mustard coloured Range Rover that she'd sourced. Or rather her assistant had sourced for her with the instruction of 'make sure it'll survive a bit of magic, and comfortable'.
She'd spent the past week checking things out near a gas pipeline for some clients while her office researched anything that might have been written down about where they were laying the ground work, just in case there was an old magical workshop waiting to be disturbed.
As the time stated on the invitation approached witches and wizards started to arrive, an interesting mix of people, some like Luna she saw relatively regularly. Others who arrived as a pair Remus and Nymphadora she didn't, after they'd fought side by side in the war it had been a nice break for a year not to be beside them, and then that year became two and…they caught up eventually.
The next wizard who arrived was Neville, she caught up with him every so often, they worked in different industries that occasionally crossed over, he probably controlled more of the wizarding agriculture than anyone else, she gathered it was very lucrative. She preferred working around the edges of the wizarding world where the intersections were, and where they'd been blurred especially after the war..
The next witch to arrive surprised her, given that for starters she arrived on a noisy motorcycle and secondly, she worked for her. Ginny Weasley hopped off the bike and looked around her carefully gesturing with her wand as she did.
Ginny had left a relatively lucrative career in Quidditch for 'something more challenging'.
Or as she admitted when they'd been out for a pub crawl 'sometimes I miss the excitement of war'.
As the time approached Hermione got out of her vehicle and walked over with 5 minutes to spare she slipped into the room shaking hands, greeting people as they all wondered why they were there.
Why the six of them had been invited as the door opened again they all turned to see their former deputy headmistress walking in; the hobble and the cane she'd had when they'd last seen her gone, she looked surprisingly well…all things considered.
"Perhaps we should take our seats," Luna mused. "It seems like they invite us to."
Hermione nodded and just as she was going to sit down an eighth figure walked in. He was roughly dressed with long hair and a beard, but still recognisably him.
He looked at them all around and matched her gaze, drawing his wand and pulling out of another pocket what was clearly a portkey.
Hermione wrinkled her nose. Ronald Bilius Weasley was someone she'd not spoken to for close to 20 years.
Others had, but she had her lingering doubts.
His claims of possession causing what he'd done, unlike the Imperius, it had exploited part of his personality, he had been compliant. His personality, that jealous streak, it made him susceptible to influences. So those who supported him said. She wasn't sure if Harry ever forgave him for what he did. She hadn't, but she'd tried to put it out of her mind, she'd not even seen him for 10 years.
Looking to Luna, she had her wand in her hand, but not pointing at Ron, it was her that had disabled him when he'd tried to attack them. Hermione knew Luna didn't need to be pointing her wand at her target to be effective.
Ron sat down at the very end of the table, noisily dragging a chair around so he could sit as far away from everyone as possible.
Then, she assumed on the stroke of 10:00 am a woman walked in with an old battered bag slung over her back.
She was about her age, a witch, even though she wasn't really dressed like one. She seemed to be wearing a coat with many pockets with several things stuffed into them.
"Greetings," she said looking around them. "You all were requested to be invited here."
"What for?" Nymphadora wondered out loud.
"And by whom?" Remus continued.
The woman smiled and extracted a box from her bag. "This letter has been kept, preserved until such time as was indicated, and to invite you all," he looked around them, lingering on McGonagall.
Hermione tried to get a better look at the box, but it didn't have a lot of notable features on the outside.
The letter was yellowed, and looked like it had had several preserving charms placed on it.
She looked around them again. "If I may begin?"
Greetings to you all, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ronald Weasley and Albus Dumbledore, or the head of Hogwarts.
As I write this, I wonder what of your faces, your expressions, of who this is writing to you, who would request an invitation be sent. Perhaps you're all notable people?
I wonder if the name has survived into common knowledge, as I am now, but then, was then, and now is the when you are.
I have requested the story, my story be told to you, to be explained, I told them, they know it, the proof is theirs to be told. They, someone I hope will have endured.
Now, you will learn of the crazy adventure I have gone through.
I wonder, and I hope that some will be working through the facts, as whomever reads this. Thank you for coming to listen to this tale, trusted allies, friends and all those who were in a war long since past for me, and I hope for you too.
The story is as long as it is complicated, unbelievable, except for the fact there is I hope still proof, beyond my tales. But then we're all tales in a history book, eventually.
Those unbelievable things become true, as we saw, when first attending Hogwarts.
I would ask you listen to whoever is reading this, they will have the full story to tell, well the edited highlights at least. The full history is…quite a history.
Yours sincerely, from history, the past and the recently passed,
"Oh my-" Hermione started to say.
The silence in the room was as deafening as it was overpowering. Hermione couldn't quite process it.
They'd been led through a vanishing cabinet that had been placed against one of he exit doors of the community hall. It had led to another community hall, this one decked out with paintings and tapestries, all created by Merlin.
By Harry Potter.
The Twelve Colonies, nuclear attack, mechanical creatures and human creatures. Prehistoric Earth and then…
She stood looking at the painting of the colonists. The logo in the back said 'Battlestar Galactica'. She immediately recognised President Laura Roslin, the dying leader from the story they'd been told.
"What do you think?" Luna asked as she joined her looking at the art work.
"Of the day we're having, the revelations, the story or…the art work?" Hermione wondered.
Luna laughed. "Yes, Hermione, you're struggling."
"You're not?" She wondered.
"No one ever found a body, we all accepted the best minds' analysis that the massive magical explosion folded in on both him and Voldemort. Dealing with all those fragments, all that energy from the artefacts he'd collected, it had to go somewhere," Luna reasoned.
"That's why there's still an exclusion zone around that whole area, it's unviable to life," Hermione commented.
"It's not impossible, but it's one hell of a story Hermione," Luna smiled and walked away.
Hermione walked on from the painting to the tapestry.
"It seems the Colonials formed a significant part of Harry's life," Remus commented looking at the tapestry. There were several anachronistic features to it showing spacecraft and nuclear explosions.
"It could be the medium he had to work with, or maybe he wanted it to look like this," Hermione wondered and looked back over to the person who'd brought them here. "Maybe the stuff with or by Merlin comes later in the explanation."
"You're wondering why we never noticed Merlin as Harry," Nymphadora said as she walked over to join them.
"Among other things, but no, there's very few depictions of Merlin," she smiled. "I wonder if he did that deliberately."
"Even if it were recorded Ms Granger, the younger Harry would only have a passing resemblance to his older self," Headmistress McGonagall said as she walked over to join them.
"What do you think?" Hermione wondered.
"Of the art work?" McGonagall paused tilting her head. "The story has all the hallmarks of a great magical tale."
"How old was Harry, Merlin?" Neville wondered when they all took a seat to hear the next chapter of the story.
The woman looked up from the book she had taken from her bag. "That depends."
"On?" Hermione wondered.
"If counting the time he spent getting from his friends in pre-historic Earth forwards he was more than 100,000 years old, but he never took that figure seriously," she paused with a smile. "He never gave a firm account of his age, based on most accounts we place his age being at least 400 years, likely more."
Hermione exhaled a breath she didn't realise she was holding.
Now, friends we enter the time of legend, and the time of mistakes, mine for taking what I came to realise was my name in vain. Hermione always chastised me to my liberal use of 'Merlin' as an exclamation. When I came to Camelot I exclaimed as I did, my little nod to my old life. Unfortunately Arthur heard me, and thought I was introducing myself…
Hermione let the tales of Harry, in ancient Egypt and then in Camelot with Arthur, as Merlin and Harry.
Saving and then unable to save Uther's life. She wondered if he had any concept he was walking in history.
I admit, for a time my memories become a bit vague, my relatives the fat ones, the boring house…I remember little of them. Those, you my friends, my family who protected me and helped me. Like those of the fleet, like Arthur continued to live on within my mind…but some things have been lost, a man cannot hold all the memories he has ever walked, even a wizard…
Hermione stepped out of the cabinet, they had all been invited to see Harry's home. Of course she would!
It was…not what she was expecting, some old mudbrick houses with large panes of glass in them. What looked like a Japanese garden off to one side, out buildings, barns and other things it was…not what she was expecting.
"This home is still used as Merlin did, for visitors, for conducting research, for people to live in," their host Athena explained.
"He must have used technology from the Colonials' fleet," Hermione said looking around.
Athena looked back at her and smiled. "Yes, it surprised Arthur and the visiting mages Merlin's use of indoor plumbing along with hot water showers."
Hermione laughed. "Of course it would."
As they were led out to the gardens Ron spoke, he hadn't said anything since they'd arrived. "What happened to him, I'd like to pay my respects."
Hermione, in fact they all turned to look at Ron and then back to their host.
Many, many, many, many, years ago…
She was one of the order, one of those learning from the great Merlin. She'd thought he was amazing and ancient when he'd visited her after she'd finished at Hogwarts, and offered her to learn more, to discover and explore more of magic she never thought…never thought that there was all this.
She had travelled the globe, seen so much, and then come back to tell Merlin about it. She hadn't realised she'd been out in the world for so long, sending owls, ravens, even a dragon back.
She'd been back to her family often, but not to see Merlin.
Merlin, and the others all told her not to worry, no one needed to be mothering Merlin, the order was not about praise, 'or any of that faff', Merlin had chastised with a laugh.
But now she was old, not enough to make her want to stop, but…Merlin had been old when he'd visited her.
Now he was ancient.
No one knew how old he was, but she knew he didn't leave his house much now.
"Jessica," he greeted softly, still in a warm tone smiling as he did. The best healers had been dismissed by him. The best healers of the order had told her that there was nothing more to be done, Merlin was dying, he himself proclaimed 'time has caught up with me'. Just as the world was becoming more amazing with steam and all the amazing things the muggles were discovering.
Sometimes it made her weep, that there was so much to explore and Merlin wouldn't get to see it.
But now, there were cables coming from the platter-shaped device, Merlin had explained the space that needed to be cleared, candles or oil lamps, or spells to outline a space. He hadn't explained more before falling to sleep.
Now, she sat and waited, she did not know what the platter was, pointed to the stars. The others did not know either, but they had waited, and now she waited.
Then 40 days after Merlin had instructed her something dropped from the sky.
It was square, like something a muggle might create, it blew hot air as it dropped down like a rock from the sky, and then in the space she and the others had outlined it settled onto the ground like a dragon settling for landing.
For a moment all was still, and then a panel on the front opened revealing a dark interior.
For a moment nothing as she watched, then a man stepped out, looking around at the world he had landed in.
Then creatures followed him out, standing on either side of the man; mechanical creatures; Cylons, from Merlin's tales, she recognised them instantly from his paintings.
"I seek Harry Potter," the man said in a cultured voice as he approached her, he wore a simple shirt with a red stripe across one shoulder.
She just nodded, she had heard very few people call Merlin that; his secret name.
She hovered by the side of the room.
The man walked in, looking around the bedroom and stopped to the side of Merlin's bed.
Merlin slowly awoke, coughing as he did, his long beard shifting as he did so. "Hey buddy, long time," he greeted with such warm familiarity. "Had a change of clothes since last time."
"Indeed, it was surprising to hear you calling, I thought this would be the end for you," the man commented.
"I think it is, I do not know how long I have lived, but death I think is quite near," Merlin said softly.
Jessica felt her mouth go dry.
"It need not, if you wish there is transcendence," the man offered.
Merlin looked to the man curiously. "Into the interface?" He laughed and then coughed. "Or are you saying resurrection?"
"It is all transcendence and transference," the man squatted down. "And you are my friend Harry."
Jessica told the others what had happened, that Merlin had summoned the Cylons, that they had offered transcendence and he had been taken away…to space.
Merlin had always spoken about what was real, what you could cast, what you could experience, what you could do.
'I hate prophecy and all of that, I've lived through enough of them to be wary and worried when they crop up. When I'm gone, continue on, and don't make me a legend, I'd hate that'.
"So, is he dead, or what?" Ron asked.
"Perhaps, it doesn't really matter, he's gone," Luna countered.
He had been lowered into a bath; there was familiarity within it, something…a memory.
"This craft is the oldest of us, a memory of you, healing Harry," his friend said from beside him.
He could feel connections forming, and feel his form slipping away, he could taste space and smell light, he could sense adventure and there was one word that tantalised his senses.
The craft that had been hanging, slowly in orbit above Earth disappeared in a flash.
I always had the end being a letter from the past to the future, and Harry going off with the evolved Cylons, but realising it...
I've rewritten this final chapter a couple of times over the years I've tried to finish this story. It's the ending I always intended for the story, I think it's an okay ending.
Thanks for reading.