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FIC: Intrigue (Merlin/Harry Potter Crossover) (1/?)
Title: Intrigue [Merlin/Harry Potter crossover] (1/?)
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Harry, Hermione
Spoilers: Harry Potter ~ takes place about three years after the final battle
Merlin ~ A week after “Le Morte D'Arthur” (Series 1 finale)
Disclaimer: The show “Merlin” is property of the BBC. Harry Potter is the property of Warner Bros. and J.K. Rowling. No money being made.
Summary: Arthur and Merlin, unwittingly, go forward in time and they find themselves in the wizarding world. In the wizarding world, Merlin is god. But, what he doesn't know is that there's a secret hiding in plain sight. And it's about to be unraveled.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
~ * ~
“Merlin, where are you?” Arthur called.
His manservant had managed to escape him in the forest.
The two of them were out hunting in the forest because Arthur had decided it was a good day for hunting.
Even though Merlin was rather useless at the whole hunting thing.
A week ago, when Merlin had come back from wherever he had gone off to, he had begun behaving oddly with Arthur. It was very strange that his manservant suddenly seemed less incompetent than usual.
Since that peculiar conversation that they had before Merlin had left to an unknown destination, Arthur ruminated over what Merlin was on about. He was certainly not a fool. Arthur knew a goodbye speech when he heard one.
But then Merlin had come back – just like that. When Arthur had pressed the issue – what had Merlin meant by his words? Why had he been trying to say goodbye in the first place? – Merlin had avoided answering him directly. Instead, he steered the conversation away into another subject.
It was clear that his manservant was keeping something from him and Arthur refused to back down until he found out whatever secret the other was concealing.
~ * ~
Merlin could do little when two men ambushed him from behind. One man restrained his arms, his chest pressed uncomfortably at Merlin’s back while the other stood in front of him.
The man was leering at him. “Hello.”
“You’ll regret this,” Merlin managed to spit out.
“And why is that?”
“I’m the Prince’s manservant, that’s why. If you do anything--” Merlin said, letting the threat hang in the air.
“Oh yeah, what will the Prince do?”
The man moved closer to him and Merlin turned his head away so that he wouldn’t have to smell his rancid breath.
“Look at me! What is your name?”
“Leave me alone.”
“What. Is. Your. Name?”
“Does it matter?” He said flippantly.
He certainly wasn’t going to let them order him around.
The man punched him in the stomach.
“You’re too insolent to be a servant. You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”
“No, I am not.”
“Tell me then, how do you serve the Prince? Does he put your mouth to good use?”
The other man who was restraining Merlin laughed at the remark.
Merlin gritted his teeth and though his magic was desperately seeking to be let out, let loose; Merlin stifled the urge.
No matter if now was as good a time as any to use it. It just wasn’t a wise move. His magic was itching to break free, but he couldn’t let it out in case someone, most importantly, Arthur saw him and he would be exposed, vulnerable…Merlin was still uncertain what Arthur would do if he found out that Merlin was a sorcerer. Would he be punished? Killed? Or was his relationship with Arthur strong enough, secure enough to weather the storm?
He wished he was more certain that Arthur would accept Merlin being a sorcerer and keep it from Uther, but he just didn’t know. He didn’t want to gamble on the hope that Arthur liked him enough to not send him to the fire upon the King’s orders.
On another matter, ever since he’d defeated Nimueh at the Isle of the Blessed, his control of his magic was weakening. As his magic grew stronger, he felt a greater yearning desire to use magic more and more. The need, the want to use magic was almost unbearable.
The man started hitting him senselessly – most of the punches getting him in the face. Merlin was sure that he would have nasty black and blue bruises on his face the next day.
The man stopped and paused, and then gave Merlin an odd, somewhat thoughtful look. Whatever it was, Merlin was nervous about what would happen next. Especially when the man shifted his gaze downwards just below his waist.
The man demanded that Merlin kneel, but he refused. Instead, he struggled against the man restraining him as he forcefully pushed him down on to his knees.
Merlin looked up in defiance at the man before him.
There was no way that he would let the man carry out what he planned to do. And so with that thought in mind, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold ready to attack.
His eyes widened though when he saw someone come up behind his attacker, a sharp blade just touching the back of the man’s neck.
Arthur. Merlin thought with a huge sigh of relief. His eyes immediately returned to their normal blue color, his magic no longer needed.
“You will do well to let him go,” Arthur commanded.
The man slowly turned around, his eyes widening.
The two men quickly ran off in the opposite direction, revealing themselves to be the cowards that they really were.
Merlin stood up slowly, Arthur moving toward him to help him.
“Are you all right, Merlin?”
Merlin nodded, though he couldn’t avoid letting out a gasp when he touched his face and didn’t feel the blood he should have felt.
It seemed like his magic, denied of the chance to attack, came out to heal him due to sheer restlessness. These days, Merlin knew he couldn’t do much to rein his magic in. He was, of course, grateful that his injuries had been healed. Who wouldn’t have been?
Arthur looked him over and then gave him a curious look. “I could have sworn that there was blood on your face. Now your face looks as good as new. How is that, Merlin?”
Merlin shook his head quickly. “I honestly don’t know, Arthur.”
The prince eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not telling me something. What is it? You do know you’re a bad liar.”
Merlin didn’t know what to say, but then out of nowhere, he heard a strange, soft almost enchanting melody coming from behind him.
He turned around, feeling compelled to follow the sliver of song.
“Merlin, what are you --?”
Merlin looked back at Arthur. “I heard something. I think we should follow it…”
“You can’t just follow something for no good reason. You don’t even know what it is. What did you hear exactly?”
“Music. A melody. And I’m going to see where it leads me no matter if you come along or not.”
“Idiot,” Arthur muttered under his breath.
He followed Merlin anyway. After seeing him in the clutches of the two men, Arthur decided that his manservant really shouldn’t be let out of his sight any time soon.
Gods help him.
The two of them stopped when they found a tree with silver leaves, which was strange enough, but then there was an opening on the tree’s bark. A strange, shimmering dark substance covered the opening. The liquid-like substance looked like a ripple in a lake after a stone was thrown into it.
Merlin looked to Arthur and then reached out his arm to stick it inside of the opening.
“Merlin, don’t!” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s arm to get it away from whatever could be inside there.
His hand easily went through, confirming it wasn’t solid, but permeable after all. It didn’t feel like water though, more like waving his hand in the breeze.
After Merlin took his hand out -- his hand left unblemished from its time inside the strange hole -- the opening grew taller and wider until it wasn’t even completely on the bark anymore.
“Arthur, look.”
A somewhat blurry image appeared within the opening. They saw a piece of parchment with what looked like the Pendragon emblem drawn on it with ink.
Arthur wondered what business the royal family emblem would have being drawn in such a manner. Who was drawing it in the first place?
They only saw the artist’s hand laying flat on the desk. Someone else’s hand, what appeared to be a girl’s hand from the size and look of it, moved on top of the other’s hand.
They heard her speak. “That’s enough now. You should go to sleep.”
And then they could see nothing more – the opening was dark once again.
Merlin turned to Arthur. “I think we should go inside there. It’s big enough now at least.”
“What? Honestly, Merlin, we can’t just go barging in anywhere without knowing what it leads to. And it’s clearly the work of a sorcerer the way it just became bigger like that.”
Merlin just looked at Arthur. “I have a feeling. I think it’s in our best interest to go through there.”
“And why the both of us? I could just as well let you go on your own if you’re so keen. You can’t make me do the same.”
“I know you won’t just let me do this alone. You’ll come along.” Merlin replied solemnly.
Arthur just stared at Merlin and gave him an annoyed glare. “How can you be so sure?”
“Arthur…”
The look on Merlin’s face did odd things to Arthur. Merlin, the idiot, was infuriatingly right in this case. After what just happened to his manservant, Arthur wasn’t quite ready to let him head off into possibly unknown territory by himself.
Merlin could barely handle a sword after all.
So the two went in through the opening. Arthur felt certain that magic was heavily involved as he felt very much like he was being squeezed through a tube without his consent.
The two of them could finally breathe again when they landed in an unceremonious heap on the ground. Merlin wasn’t sure how to explain the sensation he had felt right after he went through the opening. Nevertheless, he was immensely relieved when it was over and they had ‘landed’ - where, he wasn’t sure.
It was inside – in a house, he guessed.
~ * ~
“Hold on, Harry.” Hermione said, giving an uncharacteristic giggle.
“Someone had a little too much firewhiskey.”
“’S’my birthday, why can’t I have a little fun?” she shot back playfully as she leaned on her friend.
“I think we both know why you overdid it this time around.”
Hermione shook her head and gave him a peeved look. “Oh no, you don’t. I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. And anyway, it’s all for the best. Luna is – what the hell was that?” She turned around in surprise at the unexpected thud that had come from downstairs.
“I don’t know. But you really should lie down, Hermione. I’ll go check it out,” Harry said, trying to coax her in the direction of her room.
“No, I’m not going to let you leave me behind.”
She stared him down until he relented and let her go down the stairs.
Hermione had to admit that it wasn’t easy going down the steps when each stair kept moving on her and she wasn’t exactly sure where to place her foot. She went about it slowly and she could feel Harry behind her.
Gradually but surely, she reached the bottom of the stairs. They could hear a tense exchange of words, but it was impossible to see who was speaking in the dark –
“Lumos,” Harry whispered.
He moved his now-lit wand to reveal two men, who he guessed were about their age -- maybe a few years older. They paid no attention to Harry and Hermione, and instead, the two men – one blond, the other dark-haired – continued their banter; the blond took to shoving the other who, unsuccessfully, was trying to explain that he had no idea what was going on.
“Merlin’s beard! Am I dreaming?” Hermione exclaimed.
Harry noticed that the dark-haired man’s head shot up in acknowledgement.
Harry could definitely understand Hermione’s reaction as it was most certainly clear that the two men were not simply trespassers, but quite possibly not even from this time period. Now Harry was used to wizards wearing rather gaudy outfits, but these two were something straight out of that history book on medieval Muggles Hermione had thrown at him that one time. It had hurt – the book, not the skimming through it. He would never admit to Hermione that he had been, in fact, intrigued by the book – particularly the section on Arthurian legend for some unfathomable reason.
“What did you just say?” the dark-haired man asked, appearing honestly surprised.
“Who are you? How did you manage to get inside – Apparating is restricted here, I made sure of it,” Harry pointed his wand at each of them in turn.
“Would you put that stick down? You look ridiculous,” the blond said, looking annoyed.
The dark-haired man, on the other hand, looked rather curiously at Harry’s wand. And then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you magic? A sorcerer?”
“Be quiet, Merlin. You put us into this mess – one more word from you and who knows what would happen.”
“It’s not my doing, you royal prat, I told you!”
Harry just stared at the two of them, all the while aware that Hermione was barely able to stay upright. She was holding on to the railing to remain upright.
“Can either of you explain what in bloody hell is going on? And why is your name Merlin?” Harry finally demanded.
“Because my name is Merlin! It’s always been Merlin. This is--” He was cut off from his introductions by the other interrupting.
“You really are the worst servant I’ve had. I told you to be quiet. And for once in your life try listening!”
Merlin muttered something under his breath, but didn’t reply directly.
The blond put on an air of authority as he introduced himself. “I am Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot.”
Harry caught the other, who called himself Merlin, mouthing Arthur’s words in a clearly mocking manner behind his back.
He wondered just what sort of relationship the two of them had. He couldn’t possibly be the Merlin if he was just a servant, right? There was no way Merlin would ever have been a mere servant…
“I’m Merlin. Just Merlin,” Merlin added, saying it more as an afterthought than anything else.
Harry nodded. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter. That’s my friend, Hermione Granger.”
But before either Merlin or Arthur could say a word, Hermione appeared to be losing her battle with standing on her own two feet.
“I think I’m--” she started before she collapsed.
~ * ~
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Because I fail at linking (must rectify that ;)), here's chapter 2 if you're interested:
http://dk323.livejournal.com/65190.html
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I also never knew how much I loved drunk!Hermione until this moment.