This is a: Harry Potter, BBC's Merlin crossover.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or Harry Potter that would be BBC and J.K. Rowling respectively. I'm just using their stories, mashing them together to create something new. I'm doing this for my own entertainment and hopefully the entertainment of you guys.
Summary: There are ordinary people, people with great destinies and then there is Harry who has two destinies. He is Harry Potter the-boy-who-lived, but he is also Prince Harry Pendragon of Camelot, younger brother of the future King Arthur. He grows up in Camelot and he has to conceal his strange powers from everyone, that is, until a young man with a destiny of his own arrives. Harry/Merlin
Warnings: Hmm, what should I warn you about? All of these and more; gore, violence, death, swears, sexual situations (eventually), AU, OOC:ness and OC;s (although I always strive to keep everyone in character and to not put too much focus on OC;s)
Words: 5 315
Albus Dumbledore was just about to turn down Sybill Trelawney. It seemed as the gift of Cassandra had not been passed onto this woman. It was truly a shame for he was in dire need of a replacement professor in Divination. The last one had vanished out of the blue even as the semester was in progress.
Albus sighed, feeling old, all of his ninety-eight years weighing heavy on him. He and the only interviewee who had applied for the post were at the Hogshead in Hogsmeade instead of up at the school. This was not something that followed the normal protocol, but in these dangerous times he preferred to not let anyone passed the wards if he didn't have to.
In all honesty he hadn't had much hope for this interview; Sybill had never been one of the brightest kneezles in the litter, he remembered as much from the woman's time at Hogwarts. He opened his mouth to thank her for her time when her eyes glazed over behind the thick glasses and she began to speak in a low, rough voice.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and…"
Here a commotion could be heard from outside the door. Albus looked there quickly, but as nothing more could be heard he turned his focus back on the woman, knowing that it was important for him to hear all her words.
"…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the power the Dark Lord knows not will be gained as he fulfils his first destiny at the side of Emerys… if the Vanquisher prevails we will see a renaissance of magic…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
Albus drew in a deep breath as the echo of the last words died, he could only begin to imagine the significance of the prophecy that had been delivered from a source he had believed empty. His plans were changing rapidly.
As Ms. Trelawney woke from her trance he smiled. "Hogwarts would be happy to have you, my dear Sybill. I would like for you to start as soon as possible, the students shouldn't have to go without classes for too long after all. Will you be prepared to begin classes on Monday?"
"Lily, he's here! Take Harry and go!"
Lily Potter hurried upstairs to the nursery. Harry stood up in his crib gazing at her with large green eyes in a shade that mirrored hers.
"I'm so sorry Harry," she babbled in a tone that she kept happy as to not scare the boy. "We should have done more to protect you."
She could hear how Voldemort fired off the killing curse and she knew that James was dead. The young mother bit back a sob and took her child in her arms. She knew that it was too late. There was nowhere for them to flee. She couldn't apparate without the risk of harming Harry and she would never leave him behind to save herself.
"May god and magic protect you," she whispered and pressed a kiss to the child's smooth brow, smelling his baby scent. She then placed him back in the crib and turned to face the monster who she knew would kill her, but she might still be able to save her son.
"Please, not Harry," she begged as Voldemort appeared in the nursery, not truly believing that the Dark Lord would grant them mercy, but having to try no matter what.
"Step aside, you silly girl," a cool, cruel voice commanded.
"No, not Harry. Please not Harry."
"No, not Harry. Please, not my son! Please spare him! K-kill me instead."
"Very well. Avada Kedavra."
Lily Potter died in a flash of green light, face growing slack, body falling and eyes dull.
The Dark Lord Voldemort walked passed her limp body, without sparing her another glance, approaching the crib of the child who was prophesied to vanquish him. He sneered at the boy, his face twisting into something ugly. This child would never get a chance to hurt him. He would end his life a toddler. Voldemort looked into innocent, green eyes that appeared older than they should. Somehow the gaze made the Dark wizard remember another boy. A strange child who never cried. An orphan who nobody liked, but who possessed power beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. He recognized himself in young Harry Potter and knew with certainty that the child had to die. He then raised his wand without hesitating any longer and uttered the killing curse for the third time that night.
The green light hurtled towards the child. It touched him and the light in his eyes went out, his small body becoming limp and lifeless. The man responsible for the child's death felt grim satisfaction and dark triumph. Nothing would be able to stop him anymore. The light would fall. The wizarding world was his for the taking. His to reshape and control. Then to Voldemort's surprise the curse was reflected back on its caster, appearing again moments after the casting. But before it rebounded it left a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on the child's forehead.
Voldemort's body was destroyed by the reflecting curse and a shade which was all that remained of the Dark Lord fled the scene, too weak to do anything other than cling to the earth. Driven by desperation and the fear of dying along with his body.
The town house in Godric's Hollow belonging to the Potters was in ruins. James lay dead in the hallway, arms and legs in unnatural positions and Lily lay under a pile of debris in the nursery, her skin and hair covered by gray dust. In the crib lay the lifeless body of little Harry. The three inhabitants were dead and their unwelcome guest was gone.
The house however, was not empty. A bright shining spirit of an innocent soul lingered. This soul was Harry.
Harry didn't understand what had happened. He couldn't wake his mama and things were strange. He felt like he shouldn't be there. It felt wrong. Things were disconnected. Still, this was home. This was where mama and papa were. It should feel right. What he knew and what he felt were in opposition, making him conflicted.
He could see a bright light and he longed to go there. At the same time he was scared and he didn't want to leave the only home he'd ever known. Indecisive he lingered, waiting for something to happen.
A man came rushing up the stairs some time later. It was his uncle Paddy.
Paddy was distressed and Harry wanted to know why his uncle was sad. He tried to ask, but he couldn't. Padfoot's tears upset Harry who wanted to cry, but he couldn't even do that, so the spirit rocked back and forth sobbing in a way that had nothing to do with tears.
He was stuck for he refused to go into the light. He had to wait for someone to see him. Mama, Papa, Paddy or Moony. One of them would see him if he just waited. They would make the bad go away. They always made him feel better.
Nimueh looked into her water-mirror. She was worried. She couldn't say what worried her, she just had a feeling that all their lives would soon be turned upside down. The Old ways were in danger and she had to preserve them if possible. She had been searching for days, urged by a feeling of dread. So far she had not found anything, yet she kept returning to the mirror. She had often seen Camelot and its monarchs in the waters, leading her to the conclusion that the approaching danger had everything to do with the heir she had promised Uther Pendragon.
She hadn't told Gaius about the balance, she was sure that the man knew about and even if he didn't it wasn't her responsibility to inform him. She also had a feeling that Gaius hadn't told the king. Nimueh wasn't planning on remedying Uther's ignorance, for although she could sense a great change approaching, it had to be allowed to unfold. Though she might need to steer it. That was why she had been searching for many days and nights. There was something she was missing, a piece of the puzzle to complete the image.
She looked deeper into the water, searching for what Magic wished to show her. At long last her patience came to fruition. The Priestess could see a bright light at the depth of the pool. It shone as brightly as the sun, a light of innocence and potential. The spirit was as young as it was stubborn. It clung to what was familiar, perhaps also sensing that she had been searching for it, that it was needed. Nimueh peered at the spirit and saw that it was a soul.
"A dead child," she murmured softly. The woman was intrigued as to why this boy hadn't passed over, even did he know that he was needed, the natural order of things would not allow him to linger as pure essence. She focused her own powers, reaching into the water, into a place beyond time and space. As Nimueh got though she let out a gasp. She was dealing with powerful magic, magic that would normally require preparations, rituals, many participants, but something beyond even her comprehension was at work this night.
She could see that the child was bound to life by a tether of strong magic. The magic was of the ancient kind. A blood sacrifice founded in love was what held this soul bound to life, yet nothing was powerful enough to stop death and the child had ended up in a realm between living and dead. As she continued to observe she found that the soul was sauntered with magic of its own. This child was magical and it was magic stronger than any she'd seen in one so young.
"So much potential," she whispered in awe, beginning to understand what she was meant to do, understanding why she had been led to this spirit and why the mirror had shown her Camelot. "So strong magic and such a pure soul. It is a powerful combination indeed. With one of magic's own upon the throne we would face an interesting future. A future in which the old can prevail."
Sirius held the limp body of his godson in his arms, sitting on the floor in the wrecked room that used to be a nursery with mint green walls, yellow carpet and a ceiling that was charmed to show the sky at night. The toddler he held against his chest wasn't breathing. He was devastated by the death of his best friend and Lily. The man he had been closer to than his own blood brother, having shared everything with him and the intelligent woman he had come to cherish as a dear friend. Still it was Harry's death that hit him the hardest. He was just an innocent child. Fifteen months old. A happy little boy who liked to fly on his toy broom and who called him 'Paddy'. How evil did Voldemort have to be to kill a baby boy? Of course he was a Dark Lord, but even they should have limits, shouldn't they? Life couldn't be allowed to be so cruel.
Sirius was shaking with sobs, not carrying about holding them back. There was nobody around to stay strong for. He'd lost his family. They were gone. He was going to murder Peter, that fucking Rat. But he wasn't going to deal out the killing blow until he'd made the scum suffer for what he'd done. He had been their friend. How could he have done this? Ten years of friendship apparently didn't mean anything to him. He'd always been a coward. How that pathetic excuse of a man had been sorted into Gryffindor was anybody's guess.
"Fucking traitor," Sirius sobbed out, sniveling ungracefully. He should never have insisted that they should use Peter as a decoy. He should have taken the duty upon himself, that way they would have been safe. He would have stayed in hiding forever if that was what it took, and if it came down to it he would have taken the secret to his grave, buying them more time.
It was his fault. Why had he made them switch at the last moment? His sobbing increased as he was pained with guilt, tears dripping down on Harry's pale cheek. He brushed away the soft, black hair from the child's forehead and there he saw something strange. Slightly off centre was an angry, red scar in the shape of a stylistic lightning bolt. "What's this?" his voice was choked as he uttered the question to the empty room. He traced the scar lightly with the tip of his fingers.
"That is a curse scar," a calm voice said from behind.
Sirius jumped up, Harry still safely pressed against his chest and wand pointing at the intruder. He took in the shape of the man and relaxed visibly when he recognized the long, silver-gray beard, the half-moon shaped glances upon the crooked nose and the inappropriately bright coloured robes.
"Professor? Professor, I didn't do it! I didn't betray James and Lily! It was Pettigrew! I suggested that he should be a decoy!"
"Calm," the old man said, raising both hands in a placating gesture. "I know, Sirius. Don't worry. Peter won't get away with this."
"Alright," Sirius said weakly, visibly deflating with relief, as he was reassured that the man knew of his innocence. He tried to wipe away the tears and the snot from his face without his old professor noticing. He probably saw, but was kind enough to pretend like nothing, taking a moment to look around while Sirius pulled himself together. The old wizard saw to Lily's body, removing the plaster dust and debris covering it, using a few spells to make her rest on her back, hands resting on her stomach. She looked much more peaceful now, the way she deserved.
"That scar is saturated with dark magic," said Albus Dumbledore eventually as his attention turned back to Harry and Sirius. "Can I look closer at the boy?" Sirius reluctantly held Harry in a different position which made it possible for the Headmaster to see his face. "Now I understand what happened to Voldemort," Dumbledore murmured after touching Harry's brow and casting a few nonverbal spells.
That Sirius didn't flinch at the name was a testimony to how distraught he was, or perhaps anger against the dark wizard was what allowed him to keep his composure at the mention of the man's name. "What do you mean, sir?" he asked. The use of the honorific was another sign to the emotional upheaval he had experienced over the last hours. Usually Sirius wasn't one to put any emphasis on correct behaviour, but when stressed he would fall back into the patterns which his mother had drilled into him from a young age.
"Harry has been hit by the killing curse, same as James and Lily I fear, but something other than his death occurred."
"What? He is dead."
"So it appears, but I wouldn't be so sure. I suspect that his spirit is still here."
The Queen of Camelot was a beautiful woman, anyone would attest to it. She had a soft face, but it still had character. Her hair shone like gold in the light of a low fire kept in the room to keep the autumn chill from spreading. There was strength in her clear, blue eyes, and since she'd gotten pregnant she had only grown even more beautiful. She was radiant with joy and her smiles were contagious.
Ygraine was seated by the window in the royal chambers gazing out at the falling rain which obscured the view of the city down below. Her hand was held protectively over her swollen belly. She could feel a kick and she smiled; content in knowing that she would give her beloved husband the heir he craved, that they would soon have a son to love and cherish.
The Queen of Camelot looked away from the window and smiled at her friend. "Nimueh! I'm glad to see you. What brings you here?"
Nimueh was a beautiful woman in her own right. The Priestess of the Old Religion had electric, blue eyes and deep brown hair that contrasted to the Queen's golden locks. "I have a proposal for you. I've seen a way to give you a child that would be without payment."
Ygraine's blue eyes widened before they became slits, she knew well enough that nothing was ever given for free; even between friends you couldn't be certain. There was something suspicious about this. Nimueh had already graced her with a child. It wasn't an issue any more. "Why would you do this? What's in it for you?"
Nimueh decided to be frank. Ygraine had always looked kindly on the Old Religion and its practitioners. "The child I could give you without any cost to the world would have magic. With a child of magic on the throne I believe that we would know true and long-lasting peace."
Ygraine had to smile again. That sounded well enough, and she could understand what her friend would gain. Still she couldn't accept without knowing more. "And what would happen with the child in my womb?" she asked.
"He will die. Cease to exist."
The blond woman gasped. "I can't do it! He is alive and he is mine!" Ygraine shook her head vehemently. "I will pay for him when the time comes, but I will do nothing to harm him. Never."
"I beg you to reconsider, Ygraine." Nimueh got down on her knees before the Queen, gripping her hands. "There are more lives in question then yours or mine or even that of your child."
"No," Ygrain persisted. "I will not kill this child for another! I'd rather lose my own life."
"I see." Nimueh sighed softly, allowing her hands to slide from the Queens own to her belly. She sensed the life held inside, the heart and while she didn't agree, she could understand. "Your mind is set."
"Would you still accept the child I offer? If you could have both?"
"I'd get another child?" Ygraine could hardly believe it. She had been told that she and Uther would never have any child to call their own. Then by some miracle their friend who was a Priestess of the Old Religion had presented them with a way, and now she was told that she could have another child.
"Yes, with no harm done to your first son."
The fair-haired Queen smiled a bright smile that put the sun to shame. "I accept."
Harry watched sadly as his Paddy cried over his body, and he watched in stillness as a man he'd never seen before arrived. He couldn't understand what they were going on about and soon he could feel his concentration slipping. There was a new light which drew his attention.
The light was dark and warm. Even though it was a contradiction there was no other possible way to describe the sensation. It reminded him of his mother and it made him feel safe. In the dark light he could sense the presence of two women. One of them felt just like his mother; safe, warm and loving. Maybe that was his mother? He had wondered where she was.
He touched the light and felt a zap. That hurt. He recoiled. Even if his mother was waiting for him he couldn't go. He tried again and it hurt just as the first time.
The other woman reached out for him. She felt cool, much like water. He liked water. Her touch soothed the hurting and he was brought into the dark, warm light.
"He's breathing!" Sirius exclaimed. Harry's cheeks had gone flush with blood as his heart started beating again all of a sudden.
"Astounding," Dumbledore whispered.
"Harry! Harry!" Sirius called out to his godson, trying to wake him. The child wouldn't rouse and the wizard begun to panic.
"Stop it, my boy," the older man said gently. "Harry won't wake."
"What? What do you mean? He started to breathe again! His heart is beating! He is alive again! Why wouldn't he wake up?"
"His soul isn't here anymore."
"What?" Sirius felt that this was way over his head. "Tell me what you know, Dumbledore! This is about my godson, damn it! I have a right to know what's going on! James and Lily are dead, and now you are telling me that Harry, who just came back to life, won't wake up and that I should just allow it to be!"
The old wizard sighed deeply and sat down heavily in a rocking chair that stood in a corner of the wrecked nursery. "The reason that the Potters became targets of Voldemort and had to go into hiding was a prophecy."
"A prophecy?" Sirius scoffed and stroked Harry's cheek to keep from doing something rash, he used the soft, once again warm skin as an anchor.
"There are some true prophecies," Dumbledore explained. "I witnessed a true prophecy which spoke of the fall of Voldemort in the spring two years ago. Harry is destined to defeat him. But as it appears he has another destiny and he had to leave us to fulfil it. He will wake in time. When the time is right, Harry will return and hopefully save us all."
"How do you know?"
"For it has already happened."
Uther sat on the throne. The only sign of the tension the King felt was the rapping of his fingers in a steady pattern against the armrest. The Queen was in labour and everyone who was important had gathered in the citadel's throne room to await news. Soft chatter filled the hall, but no one engaged the King in conversation, knowing well that it wasn't the time for that.
The grand doors were opened and through them walked the Court Physician, Gaius. The old man walked up to the king and he smiled. "Congratulations, sire. You are the father of a healthy baby boy."
Uther let out a relieved sigh and sagged a bit on his throne, before straightening to attention again. "And Ygraine? How fares my Queen?"
"She is resting. The birth was straining, but she will be all right."
Now the King smiled widely. He rose from his seat, back straight and face proud. "Rejoice my friends! There is an heir to the throne of Camelot!"
Cheers followed those words, but the celebrations were cut short for over the clamour a bloodcurdling shriek was heard.
"Gaius," the King said in a warning tone. "What is happening?"
"I don't know, sire."
A woman came running into the hall a few moments later. Her hands and clothes were drenched in blood. Some of the knights drew their swords preparing to meet an enemy.
"Gaius, we need you," the young woman sobbed out, grabbing the Physician's arm and pulling hard.
"What is it girl? Tell me!" the King demanded.
"It's the Queen, she…" The woman didn't get an opportunity to say more.
"Gaius, come with me," Uther commanded and rushed out; his cloak billowing behind him and Gaius tight on his heels. He strode to the royal bed chamber where everything was deathly quiet.
The Queen's handmaiden stood inside the door. Her face was stained with blood. Her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, sire," she whispered.
The King passed her and took in the scene. Ygraine lay on the bed. Her blond hair spread out over the pillow. Her face was covered in sweat, but she looked serene, almost like she could be sleeping. Her pale lips were slightly upturned in a small smile, as if a lovely dream graced her sleep. Her elegant hands were entwined and rested on her once again flat stomach, but below her hands waited a nightmare.
"No." Uther saw it but he did not believe it. He could not. Everything was red. The sheets were soaked in blood. The King collapsed to the floor. "Noooo!" Another scream echoed through Camelot that night, followed by the squeals of two infants.
"You knew this would happen!" Uther accused and charged at the woman his sword raised, ready to strike.
Nimueh looked impassively at the raging man. With a whispered word her eyes glowed golden and an pentetrable barrier was erected around her, making her safe from any hostile advances."What did I know?" she asked with stoic calmness.
"Ygraine is dead! My wife is dead!" Uther cried, madness of grief shining in his eyes.
Nimueh's emotionless mask faltered a little as she too was filled with sadness. Her friend was dead. She had said that she was willing to give up her life for her son. However anger at the accusation took precedence over grief.
"You knew that Ygraine would die! She's dead and it's your fault!"
"Listen to me, Uther Pendragon! It is not my fault that your wife is dead! You came to me asking for aid in providing you with an heir! Do you not have a son know? Are you not happy?"
"I never agreed to this! You never told me that she would die…" the King's voice broke.
"That's the way of the Old Religion," Nimueh said matter-of-factly. "There must always be balance; a life for a life. It was never said what life would be taken. There was no way for me to know that Ygraine would have to pay the price."
"You lie! You knew!" the King raged.
"You will not see reason, so I won't even try." The woman sighed and rose from her seat. She walked to the barrier and stood a foot from the angered man, staring steadily into his eyes. "I gave you what I promised. You have a son - oh, forgive me - you have two sons. You got more out of the bargain than anticipated. You should be pleased."
"Pleased? You mock me, you vile sorceress! My beloved wife is dead. I will never know happiness again."
"I banish you from Camelot! If you ever return you will be executed. You have until sunset to leave my Kingdom. If I ever see you again, I'll burn you at the stake. You and all of those with magic will pay for what you robbed from me. I swear that I will purge the evil of magic from this world."
"You speak of things you do not understand! Magic is everywhere and you cannot shut it out! Your own blood will rise up against you if you try!"
"Quiet, witch! Be gone before I slay you where you stand!"
"You will regret this Uther. You have my word."
"We shall see."
"We shall. And it might be sooner than you'd like."
A month passed and Uther had yet to go and see his son. He had made known that all magic was banned from his Kingdom. A decree had been erected which said that any who performed magic would face a penalty of death, the same fate awaited anyone who harboured a known practitioner of magic.
He had confronted Gaius who had forsworn the Old Religion and Magic, and he had been allowed to stay as court physician.
He had also faced Tristan de Bois, Ygraine's brother, in single combat. Tristan blamed him for his sister's death. Uther had won the duel and with his dying breath Tristan had sworn that he would rise from the dead to avenge Ygraine. Uther hadn't been in his right mind ever since he lost his wife. He only knew anger. He only knew his quest to eradicate all magic from the world.
"Sire?" Uther was alone in the in the audience hall when Gaius approached him.
"What do you want, Gaius?" the King asked roughly. He had still to forgive the Court Physician for his part in what had happened and for his affiliations with magic.
"You haven't seen your heir yet."
"I haven't, have I?" He had been so devastated that he hadn't gone to see the child. He still didn't know if he could. If it weren't for the child his Ygraine would still be alive. But he would never blame a child. No one chooses to be born. It wasn't the child's fault that Ygraine was dead, and he shouldn't have to suffer for it.
"I should see him then," Uther said as if he had not been avoiding it for a full moon cycle and rose from his seat.
"Them?" Nimueh's words came back to him. She had said that he had two sons, apparently that had not been a lie.
"You have two sons, both healthy and strong. Twins. They were born only minutes apart. I came to inform you as soon as the first boy was born. None of us had thought that the Queen would have twins. It was hard on her to give birth to the first boy and her body couldn't handle another one so soon after."
Uther remained silent as the two men walked to the room where the children were kept.
A nurse curtsied when they arrived. "Your Majesty."
"Leave," he told her shortly, and she left with another curtsy. Uther approached the crib hesitantly. He had never hesitated when he went into battle, but facing his own child was much harder.
Gaius noticed his unease and picked up one child. "This is your eldest, the crown prince. You have to name him."
Uther looked down at the bundle in Gaius' arms. Amid the red cloth there was a small face with a perfect button nose, perky, pink lips and rosy cheeks. A tuft of blond hair covered the forehead and the child had blue eyes. Uther smiled as he looked into eyes that looked so much like his own. "Arthur," he whispered, "my son."
He took the bundle from Gaius and regretted that he hadn't gone to see his son sooner. This was the most precious thing he had. His son. His heir. His children were all that he had left of Ygraine and he would never forget that. Her death should never be allowed to have been in vain.
Gaius presented him with the other bundle. The child looked just like his brother. He had the same nose, lips and blond hair. His eyes were closed so the now very proud father couldn't tell if his second son also shared his eyes.
Uther tried to think of a name. He had been settled on Arthur for a long time. Ygraine had agreed with him, even if it had been his choice. The King tried to think what she would have liked. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought that he could hear a whisper in the wind that came in through the open window.
"Harry," he said softly. He opened his eyes and met green orbs.
He had lost something that nothing ever could replace, but he had gained something of great value. Camelot would be safe for now he had heirs who could one day take up his crown and continue his legacy.
"Arthur and Harry, the princes of Camelot."
End Chapter 1
AN 1st December 2012:
So I started a new story. A crossover. I've read a lot of Merlin/Harry Potter crossovers lately and I've become sort of addicted to them, and now that I've begun to run out of stories to read I had to start one my own. I have read all Harry Potter Books and seen all seasons of Merlin, so I hope that will be adequate knowledge to build on for this story.
Last edited: February 2014