Archive of Our Own

"I have an idea," Merlin said, leaning against Arthur on the couch and pausing the television.

"Hm?" Arthur was barely functioning since it was nearly 2AM.

"You could come guest lecture at some point in the year—I'm sure that it's allowed, and if not I could find a way to persuade them to let you."

"Really?" Arthur asked, suddenly awake. "That'd be brilliant."

Merlin beamed. "We'd have to come up with different things for you to lecture on—and, of course, we could do it near the holidays. A fun break from me droning on about whatever I have to talk about."

"I could talk about Guinevere, and how she undid my father's laws," Arthur suggested.

Merlin sighed. "That's part of the course curriculum, so I go over it a bit into first year—obviously that would work for those who are first years this year, but not for the rest of them."

"What if I went over the rise of the New Religion? I'm pretty sure that you said you taught that, but did you go over how wands actually restrict their abilities, or how wands were just a thing that colonizers imposed upon those whose land they imperialized?"

"I haven't!" Merlin exclaimed, kissing Arthur. "That's perfect! Sometimes you aren't a complete dollophead."

A small smile made its way onto Arthur's face, and Merlin, beaming, hit play on the news. It was talking about some serial killer, Sirius Black.

"… The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

⚡⚡⚡

"Excuse me," Merlin said, knocking on the doorframe. Dumbledore glanced up at him and gestured for him to enter the office.

"Yes, Mabon?"

"I was wondering—er—if I could have somebody come to guest lecture in my class occasionally? I'm aware that many students find history boring and I feel that if there's a change every now and then that they'll be more interested?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "Who is this person? Can we trust them?"

"They're my—er, well—his name is Awstin. I trust him with my life."

"Very well."

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin skimmed through the top of the scrolls on his desk, searching for two particular ones. The summer homework for the third years was to read A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot and explain the inaccuracies of one of the chapters (which were pre-assigned. Students had to do their research with a partner from another House, but wrote their essays on their own. They were, however, expected to read the entire book to have a better understanding of the common misconception of magickal history).

He found them—one by Hermione and the other by Draco—and cleared his throat. "Good morning! How were your summers?"

Nobody raised their hands, so he sighed and said, "Mine was good, and I hope yours was too. We're going to jump right into this year's classwork, as there's quite a lot to cover."

Groans echoed across the classroom, so Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hopefully, you'll enjoy what we're learning. Does anybody enjoy debates?"

A few hands rose cautiously and Merlin grinned. "Good. Did everybody do their summer homework? If not, you may be a little lost today. Everybody seems to have done their homework, so you at least read your assigned chapter."

Merlin shuffled the scrolls of parchment on his desk so that they were in piles of two, separated based off of the chapter. "What we're going to do this year is completely relearn everything that's taught in this book—" he held up a copy of A History of Magic, "—by studying everybody's summer homework. These were graded off of completion—not many accurate tellings of history can be found, although some of this I have taught in your previous classes."

"Er, Professor?" Harry asked. "Does this mean that we did our essays for no reason?"

"Not at all; it's very important to have knowledge of both what is accurate and what is commonly perceived as the truth—is anybody in here an artist?"

Dean raised his hand slightly. "And do you know the primary colors?"

"Red, blue, and yellow—but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Exactly my point. Many people seem to believe that red, blue, and yellow are the primary colors—that, after all, is what non-magic folk are taught in school. The true primary colors are cyan, magenta, and yellow. With these colors, you can make anything—cyan and magenta make blue, magenta and yellow make red. This is the truth, but the majority of people do not know this."

Dean leaned back in confusion, while Hermione was quickly trying to write down everything that he'd said so far. School had barely started, but she already looked exhausted.

"When Bathilda Bagshot published her book, twenty percent of what she wrote had never before been published. It was a mixture of guesswork and being misled by tricksters, with small grains of truth throughout."

"Professor? If Bathilda Bagshot was guessing, how do you know what's correct and what's incorrect?" Hermione asked. "I mean no disrespect, but this book was published in 1947, and you're obviously much younger than that."

"Good question." Merlin laughed, pondering how he could answer. "Many things that she has written have since been disproved—Colin the Conqueror was a character made up to intimidate the Wizarding Armies, but she wrote about him factually, as if he were real, as she thought he was."

Hermione frowned and pulled out a new scroll of parchment. "How do you know the true history, though, if it was so difficult for somebody who traveled the world speaking to historians?"

Merlin smiled a tiny bit, then turned to the board. Across the top, Uno Mas was scrawled. "Draco, Miss Granger, your essays were both excellent. Would you mind explaining the Theory of Uno Mas? Whichever of you doesn't get to explain this will explain the next part of Chapter Three."

Hermione beamed and raised her hand, so Merlin called on her. "The Theory of Uno Mas is that magic came from one man—Uno Mas, the first wizard, who lived at the Time of the Reptiles, also known as dinosaurs."

"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor. Why is this theory not possible, Miss Granger?"

"Er, well, according to the muggles' theory of evolution, no humans—not even their close ancestors—lived at the same time as dinosaurs. This would mean that the time period of Uno Mas' life is incorrect. Roughly sixty five million years passed after the extinction of dinosaurs before humans walked the earth."

"Correct; another five points. On top of this, every single human, every single thing in the universe has magic. Even non-magic folk—these people have magic, they just can't use it. Magic didn't originate from a human, it originated from the universe."

"Er, Professor? What do you mean everybody has magic, even muggles? How is that possible?"

"Not sure," Merlin replied brightly. "Magic isn't something you learn, it's something that is a part of you or isn't. You can have it, but not have it be a part of you—in the case of non-magic folk, this is what's happening—or you can have it and have it be a part of you."

⚡⚡⚡

"Please get with the partner that you worked with for the summer homework." Merlin commanded, then paused as his class reorganized themselves. "Now that we've finished going over Chapter Three, I'd like you to write an essay on what the two of you deem the most likely theory of the origin of magic."

Most of the class groaned. Hermione looked like her interest had been piqued but she was annoyed at having Draco be her partner. Draco looked intrigued, but mildly upset.

He walked around the classroom, hearing Harry talk about how maybe Uno Mas was the first wizard—er, sorcerer—but that Bathilda Bagshot got the timeline wrong. Ron was glaring at Pansy Parkinson, who was ranting about how this class was stupid and that obviously, muggles didn't have magic. Hermione seemed surprised at the fact that Draco agreed with her on the idea that magic had always been around.

"I've done as much research as I can on the Old Religion, and it seems as though magic was around before sorcerers," she said.

"Dragons and other magical creatures, the Triple Goddess…" Draco agreed. "Definitely. I wonder how the first magic user found out that they had magic." At Hermione's look of shock, he added, "I'm not stupid; I pay attention in class."

She flushed and got out a blank piece of parchment. Merlin returned to his desk, where he kept an eye on the squabbling students. "As a reminder, those of you who do not participate in writing the essay will fail."

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin felt the blood drain from his face when he heard the news. How had Sirius Black managed to get onto school grounds? He was certain that the wards prevented wizards from Apparating onto Hogwarts' grounds, and the dementors covered the sky and borders—not that he hadn't snuck past them before.

The fact that it was Samhain—the harvest of blood—made everything so much worse… if Sirius Black had succeeded in killing Harry, in sacrificing him for the Dark Lord… 

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the grounds," Dumbledore announced to the room, which was filled with every student in the school.

Merlin offered to search the grounds—after all, he could have made his way out of the castle and be hiding in the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore stared at him curiously when he offered to search the most dangerous area of Hogwarts' property, but waved him off. It took Merlin several hours, but he found nothing other than a few pawprints near the Whomping Willow.

When he returned to the castle, nearly all of the students were asleep. Merlin reported to Dumbledore that he'd found nothing, and a shadow crossed over his face.

The next day, a painting of a knight that seemed vaguely familiar replaced the Fat Lady as the doorway to Gryffindor's tower. Merlin hadn't seen him before, and didn't really see him that often once he was put there. The only times that he passed by Sir Cadogan were when he was making sure that Harry was making it safely to his dorms, as Dumbledore had requested the staff.

⚡⚡⚡

A few days before the first Quidditch match, Draco stormed into his classroom. It was after dinner, and Merlin had just finished reorganizing the room after a test that had forced him to rearrange the desks.

"Professor," Draco began, breathing heavily, "are you busy right now?"

"Not at all," Merlin replied, clearing his desk off. He sat on it, then looked at Draco. "What's wrong?"

"They're not letting me play tomorrow," Draco all but snarled.

"That's ridiculous—you're the seeker, are you not? As far as I'm aware, there's only one seeker per team, and it's quite difficult to win without one."

"That's not—it's not that they're not letting me play; we aren't playing at all. They just reordered the matches. Flint didn't want to play in this weather so he came up with some ridiculous excuse about how we couldn't play because my arm was still injured. It isn't like Madam Pomfrey is incompetent. She healed it in less than a minute."

"Couldn't you tell Madam Hooch?" Merlin said, leaning forwards. "I'm sure that if you showed her your arm, she'd let you play?"

"It's not that easy," Draco sighed. "Flint swore that—well, he said that if I did that then he'd make sure the bludgers found their way to me. It's not like playing in that weather creates that much of a disadvantage—you can cast Impervius on all of your gear and then it won't be wet, not to mention the fact that the other team has to deal with the rain, too."

"If you wish, I could tell Madam Hooch that your arm appears fine, get Madam Pomfrey to back me up. Flint doesn't have to know that you were the one who told me."

"No, it's—it's fine. I'm just—after the whole thing with Dobby, my whole House seems to be out to get me. I'm sick of it. Thank you, though, Professor. I'll be leaving—don't want to get in trouble for wandering the halls late at night, especially with the whole Sirius Black thing going on."

Draco got up, refusing to meet Merlin's gaze. "Goodnight, Draco." Merlin said softly. Draco paused in the doorway, then he was gone.

Merlin stared at the empty seat where Draco had been sitting, then got up and went to his chambers. He needed to call Arthur and see if there was any way that they could help him.

⚡⚡⚡

During the match on Saturday, Merlin went from semi-dry to absolutely soaking wet within a matter of minutes. He didn't really mind, but the rest of the onlookers seemed miserable. Draco was seated near him, but other than that nearly nobody was with him. They were all huddled together as low to the ground as they could be while still being in the seats.

Draco's eyes were flickering across the Quidditch pitch, absorbing the game and studying the two teams' techniques. Merlin was trying to pay attention, but the sport itself seemed quite bland to him.

Harry was just flying back and forth across the pitch until it was nearly completely dark out, and the scarlet and canary robes did nothing to help Merlin see the rest of the match.

Merlin was busy trying to see the Hufflepuff keeper keep the Quaffle out of the goals when a sudden hush smothered him. Draco was suddenly gripping his arm so hard that it hurt, shaking. "Professor, Potter." Draco said, pointing to Harry.

It took Merlin a second to realize that he was talking; flashes of Arthur flickered across his brain—Arthur passed out after drinking both goblets after killing the unicorn, Arthur dying from the Questing Beast, Arthur's death rattle after Mordred had stabbed him.

The Merlin looked up at Harry. Dementors were swarming him and then, suddenly, he was falling. Within half a second, Merlin teleported him to the ground. Draco's gasp pulled Merlin back to where he was—in front of a wizard, using magic from the Old Religion.

"Professor, how did that happen? He was in the air one second, and the next he was in the grass." When Merlin failed to respond—or even acknowledge Draco, really—Draco turned to face him. "Er… Professor? Were your eyes just gold?"

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Merlin turned to face Draco. "No, it was probably just lightning reflecting off of me, or something."

At least he hadn't taught anybody the telltale sign of a sorcerer as opposed to a wizard, and nobody alive had met a sorcerer knowingly (other than Arthur, but that was a given).

⚡⚡⚡

Harry had to stay in the hospital wing all weekend. This was much easier for Merlin, who no longer had to follow him around the castle in the absence of another teacher in case Sirius Black arrived. Eventually, he decided to visit him and see how he was feeling.

"It's weird, Professor," Harry said. "I was slipping and then suddenly I was on the ground. I'd landed, obviously, but it wasn't the entire fifteen meters. It was like I fell one, max, and then I was in the grass."

"Well, you did faint a bit. I know that you woke up, but it's possible that you fainted again."

"No, Hermione said that she saw me disappear from the air. Most of the other Gryffindors said that, too." Harry persisted. "And it wasn't Professor Dumbledore—he said he had no clue how it was possible."

"That is indeed strange. Are you feeling better, at least?"

"Yes, but—er, Professor, I think I saw the Grim."

"The Grim?" Merlin tried to cover the surprise in his voice. Obviously, seers were real, but he'd never seen a real omen that came true—just a ton of coincidences, like a crow hanging out where somebody happened to die later that day, but the crow hung out there almost all the time.

"Yes. It was at the top of the seats. And Professor Trelawney predicted that I would be the first in our class to die. With Voldemort after me, that's not that hard to imagine."

"Sometimes a dog is just a dog," Merlin said. "I saw one when I was leaving the field in an effort to search for your broomstick with Professor Flitwick, and I'm not planning on dying any time soon." 

⚡⚡⚡

"You could always use my room," Merlin suggested. He'd swung by Lupin's classroom to see whether he was feeling any better and overheard the tail end of their conversation. "It's quite large."

Lupin spun around to face him, shock painted across his face. "That'd be brilliant," he said, schooling his face to a more neutral one.

"How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yes, I'm quite alright." Lupin replied, face almost too calm. "Did you need anything?"

"No, I was just coming by to check on you. Also, I have a… friend coming tomorrow to guest lecture for my class. I'd love for you to meet him, if you could come to my office after dinner?"

"Sure," Lupin agreed smoothly.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin wandered into the Three Broomsticks and went to sit down at a table when he noticed something odd. He could have sworn that Harry Potter wasn't allowed in Hogsmeade, so how—

The door opened and McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Fudge walked in. When Merlin looked back at the table where Hermione and Ron were sitting, Harry was under it, dripping with butterbeer.

Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!", and the small evergreen next to their table moved to block the other teachers' view of them.

Merlin walked over to the window and sat in the fourth chair at the table.

"Er—hello, Professor." Hermione said politely, although it looked as if she wanted him to be anywhere but there.

"Hello, Hermione, Ron… Harry. You really shouldn't be here, you know."

Hermione turned several shades of pink while Ron started trying to come up with an excuse.

"I don't really care," Merlin sighed. "As long as you stay with your friends and don't come back. It's not safe for you, especially." Merlin looked down at his drink and closed his eyes, then turned Harry invisible and cleaned the butterbeer off of him. "You can come back up and sit on your stool."

The stool moved, and Merlin heard Harry sit in it.

"I'm a horrible authority figure," Merlin sighed. "Anyway, what are we doing?"

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin paced across the platform. Arthur was supposed to be here any second, and he could hardly contain his excitement. Merlin had taught him his teleportation spell before leaving for Hogwarts, but was still anxious that he might not be able to complete the spell properly.

After all, Merlin had created the spell—what if it was something that could only be done in his presence, or something?

He'd made sure that Arthur would practice it at least once a week so that he wouldn't forget how to perform it.

Then, there was a small pop behind him. Merlin whirled around and saw his husband standing there, grinning. He'd had no reason to worry.

Merlin threw his arms around him and smiled into Arthur's shoulder. He felt like, for the first time this entire year, he could finally breathe again. "Hi. I missed you." An understatement.

"I missed you, too," Arthur said— also an understatement— wrapping his arms around Merlin.

⚡⚡⚡

Arthur was seated in a chair next to Merlin when Lupin knocked on the door. They'd been bickering quietly, but stopped when Merlin got up to open the door.

"Remus!" Merlin smiled. "This is Awstin."

"Lovely to meet you," Lupin said, stretching his hand out in greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope?" Lupin joked.

Arthur smiled. "All good things."

⚡⚡⚡

"Draco!" Merlin called out.

"Oh, hello Professor. I was just headed down to Professor Hagrid's."

Merlin leaned over and whispered in Arthur's ear, then stood up.

"Practicing with Buckbeak?" Merlin asked, falling into step with Draco.

"Yes—well, I hope so. I'm not quite sure that we're there yet; I think he still wanted to work our way up because of what happened last time."

"Can I come with you? I've nothing to do and that sounds quite interesting."

"Sure." Draco said. When they got to Hagrid's, he knocked on the door. There wasn't a response, so Draco frowned and knocked again.

"Go 'way!" Hagrid's voice cracked. "I don' want any visitors."

"Professor?" Draco asked.

The door swung open and Hagrid appeared, face blotchy and eyes puffy. "Oh, it's you. Come in, I suppose."

"Hagrid?" Merlin asked. "What's wrong?"

"Buckbeak has a hearing with the Committee for the Disposal of Magical Creatures." Hagrid sobbed, then blew his nose into a huge handkerchief.

"Oh." Merlin said, mind racing. He could sneak Buckbeak out of Hogwarts—no, they'd think Hagrid had set him free.

"What if we managed to convince the committee that it was my fault?" Draco sounded so hopeful that Merlin's heart wanted to shatter.

"That wouldn't work," he said softly. "They'd be able to know if you were lying or not, and even if they fall for it, they'd place the blame on Hagrid."

Hagrid let out another sob.

"Could you ask your father to—"

"No." Draco snapped, then, softer: "If I ask him to take back the complaint, he'll just work harder to hurt Buckbeak."

When they were leaving, Merlin noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione walking down to where they were. Draco froze and grabbed Merlin's arm, then let go and hurried off in the direction of the castle before they could notice him.

Merlin let himself flicker out of sight, and hovered near the window.

"Yeh've heard too?" Hagrid asked when he greeted them at the door. Upon hearing his voice, Merlin's heart cracked a little bit. He needed to find a way to save Buckbeak, and soon.

The fact that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were planning on helping did nothing to calm his fears.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin was the fifteenth person to sit down at the table. On his right sat Arthur, who seemed very uncomfortable with the other teachers studying him whenever they thought he wasn't looking.

Lupin didn't give him a second glance—although, on his first glance, he seemed to notice how small the gap between Merlin and Arthur's chairs. He nodded to himself, as if confirming a theory, then returned to his food.

One more person joined the table—Sibyll Trelawney, who seemed to be a surprise guest, as the table was only set for fifteen. When she mentioned that she was "All-Knowing" in a passive-aggressive conversation with McGonagall, Arthur frowned at Merlin, asking him a silent question. Merlin shrugged almost imperceptibly.

He had no idea whether she was actually a seer or not, but there was no way that she was "All-Knowing".

Draco, as well as the rest of the students, seemed to doubt her abilities.

Arthur seemed unsure of what to say to the others, so he said nothing. Hermione frowned at him several times, as if trying to figure out who he was. She whispered to Harry and Ron, who glanced at Arthur and shrugged.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin ran his hand over the broom. There was a powerful magic on it, sure, but nothing that seemed dark— just the spells that made it a broomstick and not a cleaning tool.

"We still need to check it," McGonagall said, holding her hands out expectantly. Merlin handed over the broom, and Flitwick rushed over to study it. He muttered something and flicked his wand, but nothing happened.

Merlin sighed and walked out of the staff room. Harry was looking at him expectantly. "So? Is my broom okay?"

"Yes," Merlin began, and Harry bolted to the door. Merlin closed it with a flick of his wrist. "However, they want to look over it some more. I don't think they trust my abilities." He added the last part with a wry smile.

Harry deflated. "Oh, okay. Thank you, Professor."

⚡⚡⚡

A soft knock on Merlin's door startled him, but then he remembered that he'd promised to lend the room to Lupin and Harry. He waved his hand to open it, and Harry peeked around the corner.

"Hello, Professor!" Harry smiled, but it looked strained. "Is Professor Lupin here yet?"

"Nope," Merlin replied. "It's 7:59 right now, so he should be here in less than a minute." Merlin flicked his "wand", moving the desks to the sides of the classroom.

"Okay, thank you." Harry moved to sit on the edge of a chair. Merlin could feel his bundle of emotions from his desk—Harry was anxious, but definitely excited.

Then Lupin came in, a heavy case in his hand, and Harry's face transformed into one of steely determination.

"Would you like me to leave?" Merlin asked. He'd enjoy watching Harry try to learn the spell, but if he was a distraction then he'd happily go.

Lupin looked up in shock. "I didn't even realize you were here, you're so quiet. It's up to Harry."

"Er—you can stay." Harry said. "What's that?"

"Another boggart," Lupin replied. He'd combed the school for one and found him in Filch's filing cabinet. Since Harry was most terrified of dementors, he would turn into one and Harry could practice on him.

While Lupin explained patronuses to Harry, Merlin's mind started to wander—what would his patronus be? Would it be a dragon? Were there certain animals that a patronus couldn't be?

"Right then," Lupin said. "Ready to try it on a dementor?"

"Wouldn't it be easier if he learned the spell in a, ah, safer setting first?" Merlin asked. "Obviously he'll need to practice it on an actual dementor at some point—or that boggart—but wouldn't it be easier for him to understand the spell more without as much pressure?"

"Perhaps," Lupin replied, "but I feel as though he's the type of person who learns best under pressure."

He won't be learning if he's unconscious, Merlin thought, but go ahead.

Harry passed out (he almost passed out twice, but Lupin cut in just in time the second time he faced the dementor).

When he brought up the subject of Sirius Black, panic crossed over Lupin and his entire demeanor changed. He seemed closed off, as though he were wishing he'd never been born. He sent Harry away before the conversation could go into more detail, and he seemed to have forgotten Merlin was in the room—he just packed up his stuff and left after Harry.

⚡⚡⚡

At the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin game, Ginny Weasley sat on Merlin's left. The whole time, she commented on different techniques that the two teams were using. Merlin had no idea what she was saying, but was happy to listen.

She was cheering for Ravenclaw, as her friend Luna was in that House. Luna herself was seated in the row beneath Ginny, wearing a ton of House pride stuff—a scarf, face paint, she'd even brought a banner.

Luna was a very sweet girl, who was incredibly smart—both book smart and clever. She knew most of the answers in class, but didn't tend to raise her hand unless he was asking an extremely obscure question that nobody else knew the answer to.

Merlin was secretly cheering for Ravenclaw as well—he wanted to support Draco, and would be happy for him if he won, but didn't want the win to feed the rest of the Slytherin team's egos.

When Slytherin won, Merlin could see Ginny's visible disappointment, but Luna didn't seem too upset—it was a narrow win, after all.

⚡⚡⚡

"Miss Granger," Merlin said, running after her as she left the classroom. "Do you have time to talk?" At her look of panic, he added, "It's nothing bad."

"Sure, Professor." Hermione said, shifting her books to her other arm. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to see how your project with Draco was going. I understand that you have a quite large schedule?"

"Er—it's going well, Professor. I'm… surprised, honestly. Why did you pair us together?"

"You two are definitely my brightest students. I made sure to pair up people who I thought would work well together—not based off of personality, but rather the way that your thought processes go. You can learn much better by being around somebody with a similar skill set than, say, a painter learning from a mathematician."

Hermione hummed in response, then checked the time. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I have to go study. I'll see you next class?

⚡⚡⚡

Even after several lessons, Harry's patronus hadn't improved very much. At best, he could conjure a weak shield. Eventually, Merlin stopped paying attention to the classes at all. He'd spend the evenings near the lake or in his office.

One time it was hailing relentlessly, so Merlin couldn't go outside. He'd already graded all of the things he needed to, so he wouldn't have anything to do in his office. He sat at his desk silently, watching Harry struggle to produce more than a silver wisp.

"You're expecting too much of yourself,"6 Lupin told Harry. "For a thirteen year old wizard, even an indistinct patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"6

Harry sighed and explained that he thought a patronus would fight off the dementors, make them disappear—and that was what a true patronus did. Harry was awfully young, and had only been practicing for four weeks.

"Here—you've earned a drink—something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before—"6 Lupin pulled two bottles out of his briefcase and set them on a desk.

Harry's face lit up. "Butterbeer! Yeah, I like that stuff!"6

Lupin seemed to freeze, then slowly turned to face him. Merlin just sighed and facepalmed—it wasn't like Lupin was facing him, so he wouldn't know that Merlin knew about Harry having gone to Hogsmeade.

Harry stumbled over his words, struggling to come up with a lie explaining how he, a student who did not have permission to go to Hogsmeade, would have had butterbeer before.

Lupin didn't seem satisfied by his explanation either, but stayed quiet. Then, Harry broke the silence by asking what was under a dementor's hood.

"You don't want to know," Merlin said. "The only people who've seen a dementor's face are the people who are having their souls sucked out."

Harry jerked his head to face Merlin. "What—they kill—?"7

"Oh, no." Lupin said. "What they do is much worse. As long as your brain and heart are still working, you can survive without your soul. They call it the dementor's kiss. You'll just be an empty shell of yourself. It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black."

⚡⚡⚡

When Merlin heard that Harry had finally gotten his firebolt back, he was curious as to what all of the fuss was about. The broom couldn't be that much better than all of the others, could it?

(It could.)

Hooch picked up the broom and ogled it. She rambled about some old broom that had ceased being produced. Merlin was quite bored by the time that Wood interrupted her, and had been about to give up and leave.

Then, Harry had his broom back, and he was off. He out-flew all of the other players practicing—Merlin wasn't an expert on flying, but Harry was exceptionally fast and could be completely turned around before Merlin knew he'd even decided to change direction.

The rest of the team seemed to work together very smoothly—they were on the same page about everything, and never faltered.

⚡⚡⚡

During the match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, Merlin had Ginny, Luna, and Draco sitting next to him. Ginny was cheering for Gryffindor—mainly for Harry, then for her brothers, and then because it was her House. Luna was cheering for Ravenclaw, as it was her House, but it appeared as though she'd painted a small lion on Ginny's cheek. Draco wasn't cheering for either team, but he was still heavily invested in the match.

Luna cheered whenever Cho caught up to Harry, and Ginny's echoed hers whenever Harry managed to escape her.

One time that Cho cut Harry off, Ginny gasped in shock and grabbed Luna's arm, pointing at the maneuver in awe.

Lee's commentary on the match was focused around Harry's broom as much as it could be—he'd talk about it until McGonagall scolded him, and then find a way to drift back to it, then repeat.

When Harry had to dodge a bludger and lost sight of the snitch, Ginny sighed in disappointment while Luna cheered for her team's beater. Draco clapped in good sportsmanship every now and then, as low-key as he could be.

At one point, Harry dove almost directly towards the ground. Cho followed him, and he pulled out of the dive, darting off towards the Ravenclaw end in pursuit of the snitch.

Suddenly, Cho screamed and pointed at the ground. Three cloaked figures were running along the ground of the pitch beneath Harry. He pulled his wand out and cast a patronus—a huge, silvery-white shield burst out of the wand.

Merlin would have been much more impressed if it hadn't been a few students, but was still extremely surprised at how successful the spell was. As it was, he excused himself and ran down to the ground. By the time he got there, the game was over—it seemed like Gryffindor was cheering, but he wasn't certain.

McGonagall was standing next to the three students—Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint—yelling at them, absolutely furious. She'd given them detention and taken fifty points away from Slytherin by the time that Dumbledore had made his way over to the five of them.

⚡⚡⚡

A loud, rapid series of knocks on his door woke Merlin. It was the middle of the night, and he was almost too deeply asleep to hear them.

He rolled out of bed and opened the door to see McGonagall standing there. Her face was pale and she looked panicked.

"Sirius Black," was all she said.

Merlin felt the blood drain from his face and told her that he'd be a minute, then changed out of his pyjamas.

"What happened?" He asked as she led him down a corridor towards the Gryffindor dormitories.

"He found a list with Gryffindor's passwords on it. Sir Cadogan let him into the tower and he made his way into Harry Potter's room."

"Is he okay?" Merlin asked, feeling quite faint.

"Yes," she replied, and Merlin sighed in relief. "He must have miscalculated, because he went to Ron Weasley's bed. Black  woke him up, and he woke the rest of the tower. We have no idea where Black is now."

Merlin offered to check the forest again, but he was nowhere in sight. Nobody found a trace of him outside of Gryffindor's tower.

⚡⚡⚡

By the end of Merlin's next class with the third year Gryffindor and Slytherin students, he'd docked forty points from Gryffindor. The whole school was abuzz with gossip about Sirius Black, and classes seemed to be the perfect time to talk about it.

"… I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft… I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down… I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches…and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered." 8

"Mister Weasley," Merlin scolded for the eighth time. "If you can't stop talking, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the class."

Ron turned as red as his hair. "Sorry, Professor."

Merlin sighed and turned back to the board, where he was discussing Chapter Twenty One of A History of Magic .

"Professor?" Hermione asked, "Why did you skip Chapter Twenty?"

"If I went over everything that was wrong with Chapter Twenty*, it would take ages. First of all, there's both the version of the story as non-magic people know it and the version that many magic people know. Second of all, it's almost entirely inaccurate. Hogwarts was built during the later part of the tenth century—990 B.C.E.—and Camelot fell in the earlier part of the sixth century. On top of that, I've already gone over much from this time period and place."

At Hermione's frown, he sighed and added, "If you want, I can either tell you more outside of class, or direct you to several books that are entirely factual. Just ask me after class."

Hermione asked him for the book recommendations, as she didn't have time to meet him outside of class and wanted some books for over the summer.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin was in Honeydukes, looking to get Arthur some Fizzing Whizbees, when he felt somebody bump into him. He turned to see who was there, but didn't see anybody—the shop was crowded, but nobody was near him.

A small path seemed to clear to the door, so Merlin followed it. Ron was standing outside and suddenly jumped in surprise. He said something quietly that Merlin couldn't quite hear, then headed off in the direction of High Street.

Merlin turned himself invisible, then marched after him. He went into the post office, Zonko's, and then up by the Shrieking Shack. Merlin was about to decide that he'd imagined Harry's presence when he heard Ron speak.

"Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it. I asked Nearly Headless Nick…he says he's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Fred and George tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut… "9

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson walked up the path and Ron stopped talking.

"Looking for a new summer home?" Pansy asked. "It's probably a lot nicer than your current one—although I doubt you'd be able to afford buying a different one."

Ron moved to hurl himself at the three of them, but stopped midlunge when his robed bunched up behind him. Merlin was out of sight in the trees, so he let his spell fade away and walked into the clearing.

"What's going on here?"

Pansy seemed to recover first. "Nothing, Professor. Come on." The last part was directed at Crabbe and Goyle, who turned and followed her, sneering at Ron as they left.

He was still beet red with anger, and it appeared as though Harry was still holding him back. He glared at them as they left, then turned and stormed off in the direction of Hogsmeade.

Harry must have stepped on the edge of his cloak, or something, because the next second Merlin could see his foot and ankle.

"Harry," he said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible, "I thought I told you not to come back to Hogsmeade?"

He marched Harry, invisible, back to Hogwarts and gave him detention.

"So," he said, sitting in his office. "What was so important that you felt the need to break the rules and risk getting murdered by a serial killer?"

"Er—" Harry began. "I—"

"Decided that you wanted to explore the joke shop?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."

"Turn out your pockets."

Harry hesitated, then pulled a bag of stuff from Zonko's out of his pockets along with a piece of old parchment. Merlin studied it, then sighed.

"You bought all of this?"

"Er, well, I didn't." Harry said, then quickly added, "I didn't steal them, either, though! I gave money to Ron—"

"What's this?" Merlin interrupted quietly, picking up the piece of parchment.

"Spare bit of parchment," Harry shrugged, but his eyes darted to the door, as if he was eager to leave.

"So you won't mind if I keep it?" Merlin asked, pushing it to the side of his desk.

"Wait!" Harry said, then seemed as if he wanted to suck the words back into his mouth. Merlin leveled his gaze, then handed him the Zonko's bag.

He picked up the piece of parchment again and felt whatever spell was on it stir beneath his fingertips. Slowly, the words Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers began to appear. They were in bright green ink that stood out at the top of the piece of parchment.

Harry's face looked slightly paler than usual.

"Just a spare bit of parchment?" Merlin asked. "How's it work?"

"Er—" Harry said. "I didn't know it did that."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, but Harry stood by his words. Merlin sighed and dismissed him, then pulled out his mirror to talk to Arthur. Maybe he'd have some idea of how to get it to work.

⚡⚡⚡

Arthur had suggested that he ask other teachers, as they may have seen something like it before, so Merlin headed down to Lupin's office.

Merlin knocked softly on the door and opened it when he heard Lupin say, "Come in!"

"Hello, Remus." Merlin smiled, slightly out of breath from running. "I—er—confiscated this piece of parchment from one of the students and I was wondering if you'd ever seen it before? It seems to have quite powerful magic on it, but I can't quite tell how it works."

He held up the piece of parchment, which had faded back to being blank. Every now and then, spiderwebs of ink pulsed across it.

Lupin's face turned as pale as the moon. "Who did you take this from? Where did they find it?"

When Merlin didn't answer, he looked up at him.

"So you know what it is?" Merlin asked, pulling it closer to himself.

Lupin seemed to debate with himself, then pointed his wand at it and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink blossomed across the piece of parchment and Merlin turned it towards himself, gasping in awe. A map of the school was painted across the page, with small little dots signifying people. He quickly found Lupin's office and nearly dropped the paper when he saw Merlin Emrys printed over the dot that represented him.

"Ah, yes, and—er—how do you turn it off?"

Lupin frowned at him, then said, "Mischief Managed." The map vanished, and Merlin let himself breathe.

"I should probably lock this up somewhere so that somebody like Sirius Black can't get their hands on it," Merlin said. "Thank you, I—er—it's getting late."

"I'll keep an eye on it," Lupin offered.

Merlin, heart in his throat, managed to tell him that he was fine keeping it in his office.

⚡⚡⚡

"Professor!" Draco said, running to catch up to him as he made his way back to his office. Merlin shoved the map in his pocket, then turned to face Draco.

His face was tear-stained, and he looked panicked. "Hagrid, he—Buckbeak—"

Draco skidded to a stop and shoved a piece of paper at Merlin.

Dear Draco,

We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts.

Execution date to be fixed.

Beaky has enjoyed London.

Hagrid

Merlin stared at the small piece of paper in horror, then reached out to let Draco hug him. Draco wrapped his arms around Merlin and sobbed into his shoulder. Merlin gently returned the hug, mind racing and somewhat numb.

"It's possible," Merlin said, "that if you speak to the representative for the committee when they get here, they may let him go."

Draco pulled back, seemed to realize what he was doing, and tucked his arms close to his sides. "Really?" He sounded hopeful, and Merlin was praying that the hope wouldn't be misguided.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin seemed to be the only teacher that didn't pile homework on their students for the spring holidays. He gave them a light review that was just a mix between multiple choice questions and true/false statements.

He hardly saw students outside of meals—he hardly ever went into the library when others were there, and he didn't go into their dormitories at all.

He was surprised that so many people turned up at the Quidditch final. Even people who seemed like they were on the verge of crying at any second from stress and exhaustion—Hermione, for one—had come.

The holidays hadn't even truly ended yet, but Slytherin and Gryffindor seemed ready to tear each other apart. Breakfast that Saturday was chaotic, but at the same time nearly silent.

Other than an applause from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw when the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall, the students kept to anxious whispers.

Draco was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, paler than Merlin had ever seen him. Merlin wanted to get up and wish him luck, but—Draco stood up and left the hall, almost immediately followed by his teammates.

The crowd was thunderously loud. Three quarters of the school yelled and stomped their feet in excitement, decorated in gold and scarlet. Huge banners cheering on Gryffindor danced across the seats.

The last quarter of the school was decked in green and silver, their flags sparkling in the sun. They jeered at the red-clad students, glaring at the Gryffindor team. Their boos drowned out Lee's biased commentary as the two teams walked onto the pitch.

Draco looked so tiny on the field—he was off to the side a bit, as though trying to escape his team, and was so much smaller than anybody else on his team, but had a determined look on his face anyway.

Merlin couldn't even hear the whistle signifying the start of the match over the screams of the crowd—especially Ginny, who was sitting next to him again.

Angelina scored and then, suddenly, Marcus Flint came crashing into her. He said that he didn't see her, but Fred chucked his club at his head. Hooch shrieked at the two of them and gave both teams a penalty shot.

Alicia made Gryffindor's shot; Flint's was stopped by Wood. The ball swapped possession several times, then Montague grabbed Katie's head instead of the quaffle and Gryffindor were given another penalty shot.

Lee yelled at Montague and was yet again scolded by McGonagall.

Suddenly, Harry sped off in the direction of the Slytherin goalposts. Draco was close on his tail, but the firebolt was a much faster broom. Two bludgers slammed towards Harry in quick succession—one near his ear, the other at his elbow.

The beaters themselves came after Harry next—they flew at full speed towards him, then, unable to stop themselves when he flew up, crashed into each other.

Then, the Slytherins decided to play by any means to keep the quaffle out of Gryffindor's hands. Harry soared above them, trying to keep an eye on the snitch and stay out of the chaos, Draco close on his heels.

Soon enough, Gryffindor was fifty points ahead. Harry glanced up and put on an extra burst of speed, then his hands were closing around the snitch—except he'd missed, somehow, and by the time he'd realized, he was so far past it that he couldn't see it anymore.

Draco must have thought that Harry had gotten it, because he hasn't grabbed it either and seemed unable to find it as well.  Angelina made a goal after Harry dove in front of several Slytherins to clear the way for her, and then Draco was diving towards the ground, a tiny little ball gleaming just above the grass.

Harry swerved towards the snitch and flew as fast as he could—then he pushed Draco's hand out of the way—then his hand was wrapped around the snitch—and the stadium exploded into cheers.

⚡⚡⚡

"Professor!" Draco called, excited. He had a small piece of paper clutched in his hand victoriously. "Professor! Buckbeak's appeal is set for the sixth! I can talk to the committee then!" Draco was beaming, brighter than sunshine. "I haven't read the rest of the letter yet, but—" Draco broke off, frowning at the piece of paper.

"They're bringing an executioner? But it's just the appeal—why would they—"

Merlin frowned and looked over Draco's shoulder.  "That sounds like they've already decided…"

"They can't—that's not—why have an appeal if you're decided? That's not an appeal—" Draco's voice broke. "I don't—"

"It'll be fine," Merlin promised, but it was empty. He doubted there was anything that anybody could do to change the committee's minds.

⚡⚡⚡

His first year classes appeared to enjoy their exams—they were easy enough, as it had been mostly the same topic the entire year, and they got to write about what aspect of the Old Religion and modern magic they liked the best.

His second year classes got to write about their favorite sorcerer or witch/wizard, so they seemed to be quite content. Luna Lovegood wrote about Newt Scamander, which intrigued Merlin as he hadn't even gone over him in class.

Everybody in his third year classes seemed exceptionally bored other than Hermione. The school had forced him to make his exam about medieval witch hunts—he'd gone into way too much detail on this topic during his rants about how inaccurate A History of Magic was, and his students seemed to be sick of the topic.

On top of that, the classroom was stifling. It was only morning, but most of the students were sweating from nerves.

They seemed to pour out of the classroom once they'd finished.

The fourth years and up were all much more focused on their tests—they didn't appear bored or overly happy about having to do their exams. A few students—namely the Weasley twins—finished their exams in record time. Not because of their intelligence, although he didn't doubt that they were smart, but rather because they didn't seem to care as much. They were forward and to the point, which made them a lot easier to grade.

⚡⚡⚡

By the time Merlin finally escaped monitoring his exams, Draco was waiting outside his door.

"Er—Professor Erwood—I was wondering if you'd walk down to Professor Hagrid's with me? The appeal is today and I—"

"Of course," Merlin said, then turned and locked his classroom door. When they got to the front entrance of the castle, they were greeted with the sight of Cornelius Fudge, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

Draco seemed to hide in Merlin's shadow as Ron asked, "Does that mean the appeal's already happened?"

Merlin could feel him sag in relied when Fudge replied, "No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon."

⚡⚡⚡

By the time the appeal was scheduled to start, Merlin had run out of excuses not to eat Hagrid's rock cake.It didn't taste too bad, but it hurt to bite it.

An old man, a man with a black mustache, and Cornelius Fudge knocked on the door. Hagrid opened it, and Draco ran towards them.

"Sir, please," he told the old wizard, "Buckbeak didn't even really hurt me—it wasn't his fault, anyway—"

The man frowned at him. Merlin almost wished he could've said it was a surprise when he told Draco that he could've been harmed much worse and that he was lucky to be alive. The look on Draco's face said more than words ever could, and then he stormed out of the hut, slamming the door behind him.

Merlin excused himself, unable to hear them condemn Buckbeak. He felt bad for leaving Hagrid, but—well, he didn't really have an excuse.

⚡⚡⚡

After dinner, Draco asked Merlin if he could take him down to Hagrid's hut to say goodbye to Buckbeak. His voice sounded broken, as if he'd been crying, and his eyes were bloodshot.

Merlin agreed.

Draco went over to Buckbeak, bowed, and then—once Buckbeak bowed back for the first time—ran his hand down Buckbeak's neck in an almost apologetic manner.

Draco knocked cautiously on Hagrid's door. It flew open, and Hagrid was standing there, barely able to stay upright from shaking so badly. "Oh, it's yeh. I thought yeh were them—" Hagrid said.

Then, in the corner, an invisibility cloak was wrenched off of three figured.

"What did you come here for?" Ron demanded, voice cracking. "Come to gloat?"

A wave of anger passed over Draco's face, but he fought it down. "Don't assume you know me." He turned to Hagrid and his face softened. "I'm sorry, Professor. I wish—"

Hagrid stood up, face as pale as the full moon outside. "They're comin'…" Hagrid said. "Yeh gotta go. They mustn' find yeh here… Go now…" His entire body was shaking, and he could barely stand.

Draco paused and glanced at Merlin. "Go with them," he said distractedly. "I'm going to stay."

Merlin watched the committee representative, the executioner, Fudge, and Dumbledore walk up the hut, barely paying attention to Hagrid leading them to the back door.

He opened the door for them, feeling quite nunb—here he was, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the Earth, and he was powerless to stop the Ministry of Magic from executing one hippogriff.

"Where is the beast?" The executioner—Macnair, Merlin discovered—demanded.

"Out—outside." Hagrid said, tripping over his words. Macnair turned to glare out of the window, and Merlin had to resist the urge to slam the window shut and get Buckbeak out of there.

"We—er—have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, you're supposed to listen too, that's the procedure—"

Macnair moved away from the window to sneer at Hagrid, giving Merlin a clear view of it. He tuned Fudge out as he read the notice, and noticed a figure—Harry—bowing to Buckbeak. With barely a thought, Merlin froze everything other than himself, Harry, and Buckbeak.

He replaced Macnair's spot at the window as Harry struggled to pull Buckbeak into the forest. They were five meters away, three meters away, one meter—they were in the woods. Merlin relaxed and heard conversation continue behind him.

"Hagrid, you sign here…"

"Well, let's get this over with," the committee member said, heading towards the door. "Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside—"

"No, I—I wan' ter be with him… I don' wan' him ter be alone—"

They walked out of the hut, committee member in the lead. Then—"Where is it? Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here! I saw it! Just here!" Macnair sounded furious.

Dumbledore and Hagrid seemed to cheer as low-key as they could, and Macnair swung his axe into the fence in anger. Merlin sent a small smile in the direction of the forest.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin was almost back inside the castle when he noticed a figure at the base of the Whomping Willow. He hadn't even recognized the tree at first, as it was still, but immediately turned invisible and ran towards it.

Draco had just ducked down into a small gap between the roots of the tree by the time Merlin got there. He waited a second, then followed him down.

He could hear voices ahead; Harry and Hermione were talking about where the tunnel seemed to lead—possibly towards Hogsmeade. When Merlin heard this, he realized where the tunnel must be leading—the shrieking shack.

Eventually, the path led upwards. Merlin followed the three of them up the stairs, making his footsteps silent as he went. They extinguished the lights at the end of their wands and then, exchanging a glance and a nod, kicked the door open.

Ron was laying on the floor next to the bed, where a cat lay, purring. Harry and Hermione dashed over to him while Draco and Merlin hovered by the door.

Ron has barely managed to let them know that it was a trap, that Sirius Black was an animagus, that he'd been the one to drag Ron all this way by the time that a man in the corner closed the door behind them and cast expelliarmus on the three of them.

"I thought you'd come for your friend," he croaked. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

Harry started forward as if to attack Black, but Ron and Hermione held him back. Ron looked deathly pale from the pain of standing on his leg. "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!"

"Lie down," Black said quietly. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said, clinging onto Harry in an attempt to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"

"Four," Draco said, moving to stand next to Hermione. Ron nearly fell over at hearing him, then repeated what he'd said weakly.

"There'll only be one murder here tonight," Black smiled, and it was all Draco and Hermione could do to hold Harry back.

Then they couldn't, and Harry was on top of Black, and they were fighting and—Harry had his wand aimed at Black's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he asked.

"You killed my parents." Harry replied, in lieu of an answer.

"I don't deny it," he whispered, "but if you knew the whole story."

"Which is?" Draco demanded, pointing his wand at Black. He must have picked it up when Merlin was focused on Harry.

"He sold them to Voldemort," Harry answered, thrusting his wand at Black again. "That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, sounding urgent. "You'll regret it if you don't… You don't understand…"

"Then explain," Draco demanded, stepping closer to Black.

And then, suddenly, footsteps echoed around downstairs. 

Hermione screamed, trying desperately to get whoever it was to come up.

The door slammed open, red sparks showering into the room, and then Lupin was there, pale as a ghost and wand raised. Ron sat back down, white with pain.

"Where are they?" he demanded, disarming Harry, Hermione, and Draco.

"Where are who?" she demanded furiously, backing up against the wall.

"Peter," he replied. "And then there was a seventh name on the map." He glanced around the room, letting his gaze land on Sirius.

Merlin felt his heart pound—if he'd taken the map nack and seen seven names, then he must have known—

"No matter; where is he?"

It took Black a second to move. Then, slowly, he pointed at Ron.

"But then… why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless—" Lupin broke off and met Sirius' gaze. "—unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"

Black nodded slowly, never once looking away from Lupin.

"Professor," Harry said, "what's going on—?" His voice died in his throat as Lupin strode over to Sirius and helped him up, then pulled him into a hug.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione said, pointing at Lupin in anger. "You—you—"

Lupin turned to face her, trying desperately to get her to calm down.

"I trusted you!" Harry shouted, voice shaking. "And all this time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," Lupin said, begging them to let him explain.

"No!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too— he's a werewolf!"

There was a silence, and then—"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione. Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead…" Lupin shuddered slightly. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron gasped, tried to stand back up, then fell back down. Lupin started toward him, looking concerned, but Ron recoiled, and Lupin froze. He turned to Hermione and asked her how long she'd known.

The conversation only spiraled from there.

"I have not been helping Sirius. If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look—" He handed everybody their wands and put his in his belt. "There, you're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

Lupin explained breaking into Merlin's office to check the map out of worry that they'd go down to see Hagrid, and how they'd come back with two more people. How he'd seen another dot, one labelled Sirius Black collide with them and pull two of them into the Whomping Willow.

"One of us," Ron corrected angrily.

"No, Ron. Two of you."

Lupin asked for Ron's rat and Ron, reluctantly, pulled Scabbers out of his cloak.

"He's a wizard," Lupin explained.

"An animagus," Sirius added, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

Then Black was lunging at the rat, and Lupin was pulling him away. "Sirius, no! Wait! You can't do it just like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain—"

"We can explain afterwards!" Black snarled trying to worm out of Lupin's grasp.

Merlin stepped away from the wall and let his spell fall away. "I think," he said softly, "you ought to explain right now."

"You?" Lupin asked, staring at Merlin in shock.

"Me," Merlin agreed cheerfully, flicking his faux wand to separate everybody. Draco drifted closer to him, as if for protection.

"All right, then," Black said, studying Merlin with a mixture of curiosity and anger. "Tell them whatever you like, Remus."

Lupin started to explain when Ron interrupted him, swearing that the rat he was holding was Scabbers, not Peter. Hermione agreed with him, reminding them that animagi had to be registered and that Peter wasn't.

Lupin explained how there had been three unregistered animagi running around Hogwarts, and that it was his fault—how his friends had found out that he was a werewolf, that they'd found out that werewolves only attacked humans, so they could be with him if they were animals, how they'd managed to turn into animagi to spend the full moon with Lupin.

He also added, guilty, that he hadn't told Dumbledore that Sirius was an animagus because that would mean admitting to having broken his trust on the conditions of him coming to school as a child. How he'd promised himself that Sirius wasn't sneaking into the school from being an animagus, but rather from some dark magic Voldemort had taught him.

"It's time we offered you some proof," Lupin said, then asked Ron for Peter.

"Come off it," Ron argued weakly, clutching the rat close to his chest. "How's he supposed to know which rat he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

Sirius pulled out a crumpled piece of paper—an old copy of the Daily Prophet , where Scabbers was sitting on Ron's shoulder in the photo from them winning the lottery.

"My God," Lupin breathed, glancing between the rat in the photo and in Ron's hands. "His front paw… he just cut it off himself?

"Just before he transformed," Sirius confirmed. Peter had yelled that Sirius had betrayed Lily and James, then blew up the entire street within six meters with his wand behind his back. Crookshanks had helped him try to get to Peter, but things had consistently gone wrong—Crookshanks couldn't grab Peter himself because of Ron, the Fat Lady hadn't let Sirius into the tower, Ron had woken up, Peter had faked his death.

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry demanded. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No, Harry—" Lupin tried to explain. It was the opposite of what everybody had thought— Peter had betrayed Harry's parents, Sirius had tracked Peter down.

"That's not true! He was their secret-keeper! He said so before you turned up! He said he killed them!"

And suddenly, everything fell into place for Merlin.

"Harry… I as good as killed them. I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as their secret-keeper instead of me…" Sirius' voice broke.

"Rom, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked, shrinking back as far as he could.

"Force him to show himself. If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him." Lupin promised.

Then, finally, Ron handed him the rat. On a count of three, Lupin and Sirius cast a spell and he writhed in pain until there was a man standing where Scabbers had been.

Merlin tuned out the man—Peter—groveling and begging for his life. What happened now wasn't up to him—he could keep Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco safe, but couldn't interrupt what was happening with Peter. It wasn't that he didn't want to help, but he could feel the Old Religion deep in his bones, telling him not to make a move.

Then, Harry decided that they'd take him up to the castle so that they could prove Sirius' innocence. Merlin was the last to leave the Shrieking Shack, hardly a meter behind Draco.

Right before he climbed out of the roots of the tree, Draco froze. "Professor?" he asked. "Isn't it the full moon tonight?"

Merlin felt the blood drain from his face. "Stay here." He climbed out of the tree and ran over to Lupin, Ron, and Pettigrew. "It's the full moon, isn't it?"

Horror overtook Lupin's face, and then clouds shifted, and the moon was shining on all of them. He grew very rigid, then began to shake.

"Run," Sirius whispered. "Run. Now."

Nobody moved, and then—Harry leapt forward, trying to get to Ron. Merlin raised his arm and Harry froze in his spot. With a snap, the shackles fell off of Ron. He released Harry, who then grabbed Ron in mild confusion.

Draco ran over to grab Ron's other arm, and the two of them tried to drag him off in the direction of the castle.

Then there were a fully transformed werewolf and a black dog circling each other. The werewolf made to jump at Hermione, who was the closest, and Merlin and Sirius acted at the same time. Merlin put a glowing golden shield up in front of Hermione while Sirius jumped at Lupin.

In the chaos, Merlin didn't notice Peter Pettigrew grab Lupin's fallen wand and free himself. Ron gave a yell, but by that time Peter was already gone, vanished into the grass.

⚡⚡⚡

There was a yelping noise coming from just beyond Merlin's range of vision. Harry glanced around in a panic and met Hermione's eyes. They had a silent conversation the Merlin only understood half of.

"I'll get them back to the castle."

Harry met his eyes and nodded, grateful, then the two of them took off in the direction of the lake.

Ron had managed to stand up, and was leaning on Draco.

As soon as Merlin had dropped off Ron, he turned and ran back outside, down to the lake. He'd just found Harry and Hermione, collapsed next to Sirius, when he heard a voice behind him.

"So," Snape said. "Mister Harry Potter and the know-it-all managed to catch Sirius Black."

Merlin turned towards him in confusion. "No, that's not—"

Snape ignored him, flicking his wand. Ropes tied themselves around Sirius and stretchers appeared under Harry and Hermione. Then: "And who will the ministry believe? Will they believe me, somebody who's been working at this school for years, who shows up with two unconscious students, or you… a nobody, really, who appeared out of thin air one day?"

Merlin's magic swirled under his skin, wanting to be thrown at Snape—but no. He couldn't hurt him, and he didn't mean Harry or Hermione any imminent harm. He could explain what had happened once they got back to the castle. By morning, Lupin would be human again and able to corroborate. Sirius' story would be the same, as well as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco's.

"Be my guest," he said, waving his hand towards the castle.

⚡⚡⚡

Merlin was furious. At the sight of Harry, Hermione, and Sirius, Fudge had sent him to carry the two students up the the hospital wing while Snape spun him lies about what had happened.

He handed them off to Madam Pomfrey and was about to storm back to the entrance of the school where Fudge has been when he'd heard voices coming from the hall.

"It was lucky you were there, Snape…" Fudge said.

"Thank you, Minister."

"Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"

Upon hearing that, Merlin had to consciously make an effort not to march over there and yell at them. He forced his magic to calm down, then walked over to the doors with a fake smile painted on his face.

"And what lies are Snape telling you that warrant that?" Merlin asked.

Fudge turned to face him, baffled. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"Well, obviously Snape's going to be biased—he hates Sirius, and probably came up with whatever lie he could based off of the evidence he found—three people collapsed in a pile next to the lake."

Floundering, Fudge repeated himself.

"I'm afraid," Snape said, "That Mabon here must have hit his head. We are right next to the hospital wing—perhaps you ought to have Madam Pomfrey check you out?"

"Really?" Merlin asked, voice flat. Then, he turned to Cornelius. "What about veritaserum? Then you'll know what really happened—actually, why didn't you start off with that? Twelve years ago?"

"There were witnesses—"

"Who didn't understand what they were seeing."

"Well," Fudge huffed, flushing, "It's too late now—and he did break the law, regardless of what you say—the dementors are prepared to perform the kiss any minute and it wouldn't be smart to tell them otherwise."

"Wouldn't be smart?" Merlin whispered, barely containing his anger. "It wouldn't be smart to prove a man's innocence?"

At Fudge's lack of a response, he turned and stormed from the corridor, barely making enough room for Dumbledore to pass him.

⚡⚡⚡

The next morning, Lupin knocked on Merlin's door. He opened it with barely a thought, studying the map laying on his desk.

"So," Merlin said.

"You're Merlin," Lupin said, and Merlin hummed in assent. "So—how are you—why are you—?"

Merlin sighed and looked up, then shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"How are you—how aren't you dead? No offense, but—"

Merlin smiled and cut him off. "I'm immortal, or something. Magic didn't want me to die, so I didn't."

"Why are you here?"

"At Hogwarts?" At Lupin's nod, he continued. "Felt like the place to be, and the history education here is atrocious. They really taught you that the first wizard lived at the same time as the dinosaurs? Do they know nothing about science and evolution? It's ridiculous."

⚡⚡⚡

On the last day of school, while Merlin was packing up his classroom, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, pulling the Sidhe staff from its place on the wall.

Draco slid the door open timidly, and glanced around the classroom for Merlin. "Er—hello."

"Hi, Draco. What's wrong?" Merlin paused in cleaning up his room to sit on a desk next to him.

"Nothing," Draco said quickly, then amended, "it's just—you know how my father visited the school at the end of last year?"

Merlin nodded.

"Well—he had Dobby with him, right? And I—er—set him free. My father didn't know it was me at the time, but he'd figured it out by the end of summer." Draco paused, then pulled a piece of parchment out of his pockets.

It said, in no kind terms, that Draco wasn't welcome back home. It seemed crumpled, as if it had spent several months in the bottom of Draco's pocket, weighing him down.

"This was the first—and only—thing that I got in the mail the entire year." Draco said, voice barely louder than a whisper

"Oh," Merlin reached out to comfort Draco, then pulled his hand back. "I have an idea—just—wait right here."

Merlin walked into his office and pulled out the mirror, praying that Arthur would be near his mirror. Thankfully, he was, and his face replaced the golden glow within thirty seconds.

"Arthur, er, would you mind if—well,"

"Merlin," he said. "What are you trying to say? I can't understand you if you just repeat 'er' and 'well' the whole time."

"Prat," Merlin replied, flushing. "Well—" Arthur laughed. " Well, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if Draco—er—stayed with us."

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean? Is he okay?"

"Well, yes, but actually—no. Last year he gave his tie to his family's house elf and his father is—mad is an understatement. He said that he's not welcome back to their family manor."

"Sure," Arthur shrugged. "Is this a long-term thing, or just this summer?"

"Not sure," Merlin confessed. "I haven't even asked him yet. I just wanted to check with you first. Love you!" Merlin disconnected the call, then walked back into the classroom.

"If you want," he offered, "you could come stay with Awstin and I. I'm not sure how to go about it legally and whatnot, but—"

Draco threw his arms around Merlin, then pulled back and flushed. "Yes, please—that would be—yes, please."