Chapter One
The sun had almost completely slipped beneath the horizon. Night settled across the neighborhood and the shadows deepened and lengthened into darkness, but the air remained miserably warm. Merlin tugged at the collar of his shirt. The damp fabric clung to his skin. He was tempted to summon a breeze - just a small one to stir the humid air and cool the sweat on his skin - but it wasn't worth the risk. In theory, his more ancient brand of magic was different enough that it shouldn't be detected by any Ministry monitoring spells. In practice, magic was magic and it would be just his luck that one small weather charm would be noticed. If that happened, he had a funny feeling that he wouldn't be the one to get in trouble for it.
On the other side of the little park, the skinny, pale, messy-haired figure of Harry Potter slumped against the chains of the only intact swing in the playground. He looked as miserable as Merlin felt.
Harry would be the one the Ministry blamed for any magic performed anywhere in the vicinity of Privet Drive.
"Spying is unbecoming, young warlock," a wry voice commented in the depths of Merlin's mind.
Merlin didn't so much as flinch. His eyes barely glanced away from the book that it was almost too dark to continue pretending to read.
"It's not like I planned this, Kilgharrah," he groused. "I had every intention of running down to the shop and coming straight home."
There was a rustling sound and something flickered in the corner of his eye. Merlin looked over to see a large raven perched primly on the back of the bench he sat on. He cocked an eyebrow at the bird.
"I thought you swore off any form with feathers."
Kilgharrah ruffled said feathers in a show of affronted dignity.
The dragon had never been particularly happy with the measures he had been forced to take for his own safety over the centuries. Dragons might be protected now, but that hadn't always been the case. With the memory of the highly intelligent and highly magical Great Dragons fading and the population of common dragons growing, there had been a time when successfully slaying a dragon had been a mark of honor. A close call nearly seven centuries before had left a sizable hole in the Great Dragon's wing, and forced them to take drastic measures for his safety.
It honestly shouldn't have worked. But Kilgharrah was old and powerful even as Great Dragons went and Merlin was…well, he was Merlin. Together they had managed a complicated ritual to shrink Kilgharrah down to a more discreet size without affecting his magic or simultaneously regressing his age. Had the situation not been so serious, the sight of Kilgharrah shrunk down to the size of a large house cat would have sent Merlin into hysterics. As it was, the sight of a fun-sized Kilgharrah was always enough to make him smile,
The shape-shifting had come later. Even at a fraction of his natural size, Kilgharrah was simply too noticeable. There was less danger of being slaughtered for glory, but far greater danger of being captured for study. Eventually, Merlin had discovered a technique for calling up an illusion so powerful it was real to the senses. Kilgharrah called it a seeming. Merlin preferred the term glamour as it was very similar to the techniques used by some of the fae. Feathers were apparently an annoyance and Kilgharrah rarely took a winged form unless it could be his own.
So why had he done so now?
Kilgharrah fixed Merlin with a beady eye.
"Did you really think you were the only one to notice the departure of the sorry excuse for a guard the Order assigned to Harry tonight?"
"It was rather difficult to miss, wasn't it?"
The earsplitting crack had startled Merlin half to death. He'd thought they were under attack and had raced over to Privet Drive. Apart from a few gawking muggles, there hadn't been anything amiss, unless one counted Vernon Dursley forcing his bulk through a too small window to smile painfully at his neighbors and declare that it must have been a car backfiring. The neighbors might have been convinced by that, but Merlin knew better.
"Who was it that abandoned their post?" asked Kilgharrah.
"Mundungus Fletcher, if I'm not mistaken," he replied dryly.
Technically, Merlin wasn't supposed to know that. He had agreed not to take an active role in the Order just yet. He was supposed to be rejoining the wizarding world, and by extension the war against Voldemort, as a student. An overage student, but still a student nonetheless. Students were not permitted to join the Order. Albus hadn't particularly wanted him directly involved outside of the school at all, but Merlin had been adamant about being kept in the loop.
The compromise was that Merlin would spend the summer solidifying his identity and Albus would inform him if anything of import happened. Merlin had simply neglected to inform the headmaster that in order to attend to the legalities of creating Myrddin Lyonnesse, he had found a house for rent two streets from Privet Drive. It was much more convenient to get to London from Little Whinging, after all.
Albus had told him that the Order had arranged for Harry to be guarded, but that hadn't been enough for Merlin. Things were happening and they were happening around that young wizard. He wasn't about to leave Harry without a bit of additional protection.
Any faith in the caliber of guard the Order might have seen fit to assign had quickly faded the first time he saw Mundungus Fletcher crouched behind a fence, only half covered by a weak disillusionment charm. Several days' snooping hadn't been all that reassuring. While the other Order members Merlin spotted proved at least capable of decent spellwork, they appeared sporadically at best. He'd caught a man he thought was Sturgis Podmore napping and a witch he hadn't recognized with her nose buried so deeply in a magazine a questing beast could have gone marauding through the street. Not one of them had noticed the presence of a strange man on Privet Drive.
After a week, Merlin had deliberately crossed paths with Arabella Figg when she had one of her kneazles with her and complimented her on the animal's breeding. He had then returned to the address where Myrddin Lyonnesse lived. Albus had appeared on his doorstep within the hour.
It hadn't been a terribly productive meeting. Albus had refused to provide details of who was guarding Harry and when, citing that it was not something that Myrddin Lyonnesse would know and that, when the time came, Myrddin Lyonnesse should not be familiar with the various members of the Order. Merlin had in turn declined to leave Little Whinging. The location fit with the identity he was building and Harry needed all the protection he could get. Eventually, Albus had agreed that Mrs. Figg and the Order would be made aware of Myrddin Lyonnesse, why he was in the area and that he was someone they could contact in an emergency. In the event that something did happen, Merlin had been given the location of headquarters and the means to get Harry there.
He had not been given a list of the guards or their schedule. Between himself and Kilgharrah, they had managed to figure it out. If possible, Kilgharrah was less impressed than Merlin was.
"That dirty little man who always reeks of tobacco?" Kilgharrah cawed indignantly, his feathers ruffling with his displeasure.
"That's the one."
Kilgharrah puffed up a little more, his eyes flashing. "That imbecile cannot properly cast a minor stealth spell. Did you not make Albus aware of how you first discovered him?"
"You know that I did, Kilgharrah. You were there if you recall. It was one of the reasons he finally accepted that I would not be leaving Little Whinging."
"And still he assigns that cretin to guard duty. Mundungus Fletcher couldn't guard a toadstool!"
Merlin sighed, but didn't comment.
A gaggle of teenage boys approached the park. Merlin thought he recognized one of them as Harry's cousin, but it was difficult to tell in the darkness. He closed his book and tucked it away. Despite the dark and the distance, he was able to see the way that Harry went still at the sight of the other boys. Definitely Dudley, then. Merlin kept a careful eye on the scene, just in case the appearance of a stranger and potential witness might be required.
"What really brought you here, Kilgharrah?" he asked. "You and I both know that you wouldn't have come all this way just because the Order guard left. We have enough of our own wards to know if there's any real threat and you already knew that I was here."
Kilgharrah ruffled his feathers and shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again. For a long moment he did not speak. The two ancient beings sat in companionable silence in the yellow light of a streetlamp. Merlin had learned long ago that there was no point in trying to force Kilgharrah to speak before he was ready. The dragon knew how to keep his own counsel.
The last of the evening light faded away. The sky darkened to inky blackness overhead. The only light came from the dim glow cast by street lamps and porch lights. Even with his considerable night vision - which had come in very handy when sneaking around under Uther's nose - Merlin could only see the shadowed silhouettes of Dudley Dursley and his friends. Their voices carried the park and high-spirited goodbyes reached his ears. Harry had gone a stiff and straight as a spear on the swing. Pent up frustration and helplessness beat off him in palpable waves that Merlin could almost taste. He was spoiling for a fight and it looked like he had found one. He strode determinedly toward his cousin.
"That's not going to end well," Merlin muttered. "I told Albus not to leave him alone."
The two boys spoke for a moment or two, the turned toward Privet Drive and began walking away.
Sighing both with relief and exhaustion, Merlin started to rise. He froze when he heard Kilgharrah speak.
"Be ready, young warlock. Something comes."
Caught halfway between standing and sitting when the dragon spoke, Merlin straightened slowly. His magic prickled beneath his skin, just as it had a thousand times before when something was about to happen.
“What is coming?" He asked.
Kilgharrah cocked his head. "Many things, young warlock. We are teetering on the edge of something new. Or perhaps, something old."
"I don't suppose that I can hope for anything less cryptic," sighed Merlin.
Familiar laughter echoed through his mind. "No, young warlock, I don't suppose you can. You had better hurry. Your charge is leaving you behind."
Merlin spun around just in time to see Harry and Dudley rounding a corner toward Wisteria Walk. Swearing under his breath, he hurried after them. Kilgharrah leapt off the back of the bench, taking to the air in a rush of feathers, and soared after the warlock.
A cold finger slid down the back of Merlin's neck and along the length of his spine. He slid to an abrupt halt and glanced around carefully. The street was empty. Not even the wind stirred. He couldn't see Harry or Dudley, but he wasn't too alarmed by that. He knew from his own explorations that there was an alley just a few houses down that served as a shortcut to Privet Drive.
Another rush of cold caressed his skin. All down the street, lights flickered out.
"You have MAGIC! All this time! I trusted you and you've been lying to me!"
"Arth--"
"NO! I won't have any more lies. Get out of my sight!"
Something slammed into Merlin's shoulder. The force knocked him forward a half step. His heel slid off the curb, twisting painfully against the concrete. He stumbled into the street. Arthur's furious, hurt voice faded. The raucous cry of a raven nearly split his skull. The remnants of the memory faded in its wake.
"Dragon fire!" he hissed "What are Dementors doing in mundane Surrey?"
There was no time to wonder.
"Where are they, Kilgharrah? Can you see them?" he demanded.
Another raven cry pierced the night. To Merlin's ear it was a furious roar.
"The alley, Merlin. Two of them. They're after the children."
Rage and magic burned in his veins. His right hand flexed. Smooth wood materialized beneath his palm. He twisted his fingers around the sidhe staff. It shrunk beneath his touch until it was the size of a modern wand. Gold tinged his vision. Merlin forced his magic back so that it simmered beneath his skin. Instead of boiling out of his control. He sprinted down the street.
The biting cold grew with every step. It pressed against his mind, against the shields he had erected against the echo of Arthur's voice. Anger burned within him, white hot against the chill. Descendants of the doracha, there were few creatures that Merlin hated more than dementors.
Gravel slid beneath his feet. He caught himself and halted at the mouth of the alley that connected Magnolia Crescent and Privet Drive. A glimmering blue orb swirled into life just ahead of him. Pale light filled the alley, reflecting dully off dirty cinderblock walls.
The scene revealed almost made his heart stop.
A dementor advanced down the alley, away from Merlin and toward two forms huddled on the ground. Dudley was utterly still, collapsed in a heap, his arms held tightly over his head. Beside him, Harry was on his hands and knees, listing to one side. His hands scrabbled frantically across the ground. Yellow light blazed to life less than a foot from Harry's right hand. His wand. The wan light from the spell was just enough to reveal the second dementor, slowly bending closer to Dudley. Merlin raised his wand without a second thought.
"Feorhhyrde áscúfan deáþscúfan!
Blazing silver light, so bright it was nearly white, erupted from the tip of his wand in a torrent that swirled before him, coalescing into the form of a great winged cat. Despite the danger, a pang of longing filled him at the sight. The bastet hissed. Her back arched and her wings beat the air. The hiss became a roar of furry and in a flurry of gleaming feathers, the great cat launched herself at the nearest dementor. The foul creature sensed the attack and started to turn, but it was far too late. The gleaming silver bastet was upon it. Blue white teeth sunk into the dementor's robe. The creature let out an ear-piercing shriek that Merlin heard with his soul, not his ears. It burst into shreds of smoke.
Harry took advantage of the distraction that Merlin provided. He snatched his wand off the ground and, still on his knees, faced the second dementor.
"Expecto patronum!"
Hooves clattered against the pavement. A stag poured from Harry's wand and charged the oncoming dementor. The patronus snatched the dementor up in its antlers. Spinning on graceful hooves, the stag tossed the dementor back towards Merlin's bastet. Gleaming jaws snapped shut once more and a second soul rending shriek pierced the night.
The oppressive cold lifted. All along Magnolia Crescent street lights flickered back to life. For a long moment, the stag and the bastet faced one another. Then, they bowed their heads respectfully and disappeared.
Merlin hurried down the alley. Harry was still on his knees, staring at the place where the two guardians had stood, something a little wistful on his face. Dudley hadn't moved.
"That was hardly subtle, young warlock."
"Not now, Kilgharrah," he snapped.
There was a disgruntled "hmrph" and Kilgharrah's presence retreated from his mind.
Merlin dropped to his knees beside Dudley, ignoring the bite of loose gravel through his trousers. He gently laid a hand against Dudley's forehead. The boy's skin clammy to the touch. Closing his eyes to hide their telltale golden glow, he reached toward Dudley with his magic. Relief washed through him when he sensed that Dudley's soul was whole and intact and right where it was supposed to be.
"Who are you?"
Carefully, Merlin reined his magic back in and opened his eyes.
There was a wand hovering steadily in front of him, just out of arms reach. It wasn't pointed at his face, which was encouraging, but it was definitely pointed at him. Merlin slowly looked above the wand.
Green eyes set in a too pale face eyed him warily, but without obvious hostility. Given the circumstances, Merlin figured that was the best he could hope for. He raised his hands slowly and leaned away from Dudley.
"I'm Myrddin," he said, offering a small smile. "You must be Harry."
Abruptly, Harry's face darkened and he went still in a way that Merlin recognized with a pang of nostalgia. Arthur had done the same thing whenever he expected an unpleasant conversation. In a gesture that seemed almost subconscious, Harry tilted his head so that his fringe fell more fully over his forehead, obscuring his scar. He wand twitched a little higher so that it was pointed directly at Merlin's heart.
Merlin let his smile turn a bit rueful. "Sorry. You must get that a lot. I didn't mean to alarm you. I've got a flat on Primrose Place. I've seen you at the park when I was going down to the shop."
The wand lowered slightly. "You're a wizard?"
"Yeah, overage, but I've been given late entrance to Hogwarts to get my qualifications.'
A bit of the coiled tension left Harry's shoulders. "Late entrance?" he repeated.
Merlin shrugged helplessly. "It's a bit of a long story. Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. I just really hate dementors."
"Don’t we all," Merlin grumbled.
A humorless laugh escaped the younger wizard. Harry looked startled by the sound. He finally lowered his wand.
"Is he all right?" Harry asked, nodding toward Dudley.
Merlin glanced down at the large figure sprawled beside him. Dudley hadn't moved, but his color was the slightest bit better and his breathing was steady.
"Just passed out," said Merlin, climbing slowly to his feet and brushing the gravel off his knees. He winced a bit. Strictly speaking his body didn't actually age, but sometimes he wondered if his joints had actually gotten the memo. "It doesn't look like he hit his head. I think it's just shock. He should come round in a bit."
Harry nodded, his eyes narrowed slightly and never leaving Merlin.
"How did you conjure a patronus like that? Those dementors just exploded."
"Yes, Merlin. How did you conjure a patronus like that?" Kilgharrah's voice was mocking, sarcasm dripping from every word. "How do you plan to explain that it was no patronus you conjured but a far more ancient and powerful entity meant for a far more ancient and powerful foe?"
"The same way I got out of most things in Camelot."
Outwardly, he schooled his expression into one of absolute bafflement.
"I have no idea," he said slowly, deliberately letting his eyes fall on the place where the bastet had stood. "I've never managed anything like that before."
An outright lie. He'd created that spell himself.
Harry followed his gaze and they both stared at a nondescript spot on the wall of the alley as though they could still see the stag and the bastet. The strange, longing look was back in Harry's eyes. A car drove past on Magnolia crescent.
Merlin cleared his throat and changed the subject. He gestured toward a still unmoving Dudley.
"I don't think it's safe enough for us to stand around waiting for him to come around. There might be more of those things. We're probably going to have to carry him. I don't suppose he lives nearby?"
Harry nodded and turned to look down at Dudley. A resigned expression crossed his face. "It's not far. He's my cousin. We only live around the corner on Privet Drive." His voice took on the barest hint of whine. "Might as well be ten miles."
"Fortunately," said Merlin, "I can do something about that. I might technically be under-qualified and under-educated by Ministry standards, but I'm fairly capable and I am overage." He held up his wand. "I can cast a featherlight charm."
Harry's shoulder slumped in obvious relief. "Thank Merlin!"
The warlock in question nearly burst into laughter.
If only Harry knew.