SUMMARY: Merlin has a secret. A secret he knows he must guard with his life because most of the world won't understand. They'll think him Bad, Evil, Dark. So he keeps it hidden.
Unfortunately, secrets have a way of getting out.
In a world of magic, a world of learning that magic, of embracing it and exploring the wonders it can perform, Merlin is different. He's always been different, and that difference could be dangerous if he lets it run untethered and raging. What better solution could there be than to learn to tame his wayward power?
No one ever told him that school could be so terrifying, and that was to say nothing of the people there.

Rating: T

Tags: Bullying, bullying violence, magical violence (minimal), people being prats.

~Written for the After Camlann Big Bang 2016~

A/N: My first time participating in this fest and it's been so much fun! Working with the lovely matchboximpala and her beautiful art - I'm sorry for my incompetence and thanks so much for sticking with me - we actually managed to patch it together! Thanks to everyone from the ACBB community for running this wonderful fest once again. I definitely anticipate partaking again in future.

This is a Hogwarts AU written entirely for non-profit purposes. All characters and rights go to the original producers of the BBC and the legend itself, as well as JK Rowling for creating the foundations of the world this story explores. Basically, it's set at Hogwarts but with Merlin characters. It might - might, if I can get off my butt to kick my muse into action once more - be part of a series? Maybe? I'm not sure, but I'd really appreciate any comments, suggestions or otherwise if you have a second.

Anyway, thanks for taking the time to take a peek and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: An Unfortunate Beginning

"Merlin, you bastard!"

With a start, Merlin whipped his head sideways to dart a glance over his shoulder. At the sight of Will, round face mottled a furious red and pounding the pavement of the sidewalk as he raced towards him, he gave a strangled yelp, dropped the handle of his trunk and fled.

"Merlin!" Hunith called after him, but Merlin didn't pause, leaving his mother behind alongside his trunk. He knew Will would catch him – Will had always been faster than him – but it was his hope that some of his furious anger would have quelled by the time he bowled him over.

It hadn't. Or at least, the force of Will's grasp as it latched onto the back of Merlin's robes suggested it hadn't. Merlin had barely made it to the end of the block, stumbling in his eternal clumsiness as he rounded the corner, and Will was upon him. He yelped once more, even more strangled than before for the abrupt tightness at his neck.

"Will… you're… suffocating me."

"You damn well deserve it," Will exclaimed, far louder than was entirely necessary given that he practically shouted right into Merlin's ear. Merlin cast his friend a cringing glance, wincing at the venomous expression he wore. "You do. You bloody well deserve it and you know it. How could you not tell me?"

Sighing – still a struggle with Will's grip on his collar – Merlin cast his eyes skyward. "Really? How could I not tell you, when you react like this?"

Will's face grew only redder with Merlin's words. "I'm not angry at you for leaving, I'm angry that you didn't tell me you were leaving."

Merlin glanced at Will sidelong. He raised a hand and feebly attempted to untangle his friend's fingers from his robes. Though Merlin was taller than him, Will more than made up for the discrepancy for sheer determination and stubbornness. He would be unlikely to loosen his fingers without his own express desire to do so. Merlin sighed once more as his attempt failed. "You are too. I knew you'd be angry that I was leaving –"

"I'm not angry because of that."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

"Not."

"Are!"

Will growled in his throat once more but didn't attempt to continue their childish exchange. It was a testament to just how right Merlin was that he didn't; Will was as stubborn as a mule and so rarely admitted defeat – or his own wrongdoing – that it was nothing short of miraculous when he actually did. So when he finally thinned his lips, pressing them together and nodded shortly, Merlin actually blinked in surprise. "You're admitting I'm right?"

Grumbling unintelligibly, Will released his hold on the back of Merlin's robes. He glared at the ground by his feet, his hands opening and closing in clenching fists. "Course you're right. I don't want you to go. I'm mad."

Despite Will's still very evident anger, Merlin felt himself ease. This anger he could deal with, more so than outright, spitting fury. Petulance and sulking were all very tedious but it was easier in many ways to handle than being assaulted by violent cusses and furious reprimands. With the casualness they'd acquired from half a lifetime of friendship, Merlin turned towards his friend and slung an arm around his shoulders. Will leant into him, face still drawn in a sulk but falling prey to the affection nonetheless.

"Look, Will, I'm sorry," Merlin sighed, squeezing Will's shoulder comfortingly. Will only grunted, barely acknowledging the words or the gesture. "I didn't mean to upset you, it's just… it was all supposed to be sort of undercover. My mum told your mum only yesterday –"

"Yeah, and she only told me this morning, when it was almost too late." Will's glare at his feet had become glassy, his dark eyes filling with tears, and Merlin winced once more. Please don't cry because then I'll start crying and then I'll never be able to leave.

Dropping his chin onto Will's shoulder, Merlin set to patting his shoulder fondly, comfortingly. "You know, it's not like I'm disappearing off the face of the earth. It's just to Scotland –"

"Which may as well be a whole world away," Will muttered. He sniffed – please don't cry – and swiped at his nose with a fist. "Why the hell do you even have to go to a school anyway? What's wrong with home schooling? Everyone home schools."

Merlin hummed in dissent. "Correction, everyone in Ealdor home-schools. I'm pretty sure that most of the world doesn't do that."

"Well, good thing you're from Ealdor then," Will persisted. "You don't have to go."

Merlin could have predicted Will's lip pouting in continued petulance without glancing at him. He sighed once more. Why did Merlin always have to be the more mature, the more adult of the pair of them? Why did he have to be the one to preach the positives of his sea change? It wasn't like Merlin truly wanted to go to school; he'd much rather stay with his friend, remain in their quiet little town, then travel across a sea and a country to go to boarding school. Even if he had always felt a little different, a bit of an outcast, he didn't want to leave his mum, or his only true friend. It really wasn't fair.

But then Merlin couldn't afford not to go. Not after everything that had happened. Not with suspicions rising and the inevitable result being that someone would find out.

Drawing away from Will, maintaining contact only through his one-armed hug, Merlin met his friend's eyes. "Look, Will. You can write. You can even visit if you really want to. And I'll be back for the entire Christmas holidays, and all of the Easter holidays, and then all of summers break too. It's not like I'm going to disappear."

"Feels like it," Will muttered, and he sniffed once more. "I just don't understand why you up and decided that school was so much better than just learning from home."

Merlin shrugged. "Mum and I talked about it. She seemed to think that I'd about reached the limits of what I could learn from her. You know how she is with magic nowadays."

"Then you could tutor with me. Mum and Dad wouldn't mind, honest. I'll ask them for you if you'd like."

Merlin shook his head even before Will had finished speaking. Over Will's shoulder he could see his mother heading towards them, walking slowly in an effort to extend their privacy. She navigated around Mr Perkins as he backed from his modest little shopfront out onto the street with an armful of scrolls stacked high before him. Merlin's trunk trundled behind her, Zee's cage balanced precariously on top with the dozing rat curled comfortably within. Hunith didn't even bothering to use the wand that stuck visibly from the pocket of her robes but manually dragged the cumbersome luggage instead.

Merlin turned his attention back to Will who had finally raised his gaze from the cement of the footpath. His eyes were faintly red but had lost their glassiness. Merlin offered him a smile. "Thanks, Will. But I don't think that'd work. There's just so much else that I can learn at a school that I wouldn't be able to from home. Stuff that I need to learn. And stuff that I might be able to… teach myself." He raised his eyes meaningfully at his friend.

Will, to his credit, seemed to understand the unspoken words almost immediately. "You mean… oh. Oh, because of…" He clamped his lips shut, and for the first time since he'd practically ploughed into Merlin, anger faded entirely from his face. Only to be replaced by concern and a distinct flash of guilt instead. "Is it – are you leaving because of me? Because of what happened with me?"

Merlin shook his head firmly. "No, of course not." Not entirely, anyway. It's not. It's not because of Will.

"Because if it is, I… Merlin, I'd tell everyone, I'd tell them that it wasn't bad and that it's evil. If it's my fault –"

"It's not, Will. Seriously, calm down. Besides, what happened with you was ages ago." No, it wasn't because of Will. Not the fault of the incident that had taken place years before. Partially, perhaps, if anyone joined the dots and began to question the similarity of the supposed miracles. But the suspicions hadn't truly been rising until two months ago, when Merlin had done something utterly foolish. When Hunith had heard word of those suspicions in passing and panicked. "It's just… no, it's not just that. It's really not. Mum's worried that someone might have found out. And that if I leave my Gift and my magic – you know even my magic's kind of weird – if I leave it unchecked and un-warded with it still still growing, then it's likely I'll attract the attention of Muggles. And besides, you know what Mum's like." He forced a fondly exasperated expression on his face.

Will stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. Everyone knew of Hunith's reluctance to use magic. Ever since her disaster of a charms experiment when Merlin was nine, she'd used magic minimally at most. It had been difficult for Merlin, attempting to learn his own skills, develop his own magic, predominantly from textbooks.

Will sniffed once more. He opened his mouth, and Merlin could almost see the objection on his tongue before he spoke. "It's not that weird, you know. I'm sure plenty of people can do what you can do. Just 'cause no one in our town does doesn't mean it doesn't happen." He shrugged. "I mean, accidental magic is all wandless, right? Surely it can't be that uncommon."

"Not uncommon for a teenager to still be doing it?" Merlin asked, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "Or to actually do it intentionally?" He shook his head. "No, it's weird, Will, and you know it. But Mum said the professors at Hogwarts might be able to help me with it."

"What could they possibly help you with? It's just like other magic, right?"

Merlin bit back the urge to sigh once more. He was doing that far too much of late; he attributed it to his reluctance to leave home. "Not exactly, no. You know people are a little freaked out by it when they see it –"

"Freaked out? More like in awe."

"- and that wouldn't be the worst of it. It's because of my… my Gift more than anything else that Mum thinks I need to go to school. Imagine what people would say if they found out about that problem."

Will pouted once more. "It's hardly a problem."

"You think that," Merlin corrected. "And only because it helped you once."

"I'd still think that anyway."

"No you wouldn't."

"Yes I would," Will persisted stubbornly. "It's not Dark, Merlin. It's not evil."

Merlin glanced over Will's shoulder towards his approaching mother, towards the disappearing figure of Mr Perkins as he tottered around the corner. "Most people would think so," he murmured.

Will frowned, opening his mouth to reply indignantly, but was cut off by Hunith's arrival. Her thin face, worn and weary and just a little strained with mounting worry, attempted a smile as she halted and glanced towards Will. "Good morning, William. Satisfied now that you've effectively waylaid my son and vented your frustrations?"

Will dropped his chin sheepishly, cheeks reddening slightly once more. "Yes, Mrs Em. I'm feeling much better now."

Hunith's smile widened, easing some of the lines of her persistent worry. "I'm glad to hear it. Unfortunately, however, Merlin has to be away. 'The Portkey waits for no man', as the saying goes." And nodding to herself, she made her way towards their destination once more, leading Merlin and a tag-along Will towards the outskirts of town.

Merlin kept his head bowed, arm still slung over Will's shoulder as he followed in his mother's footsteps. He didn't speak to his friend, and Will seemed to recognise his inclination towards brooding silence. His eyes were trained on the pale grey footpath beneath his feet, fighting the urge to peer at the squat little houses around him, the immaculate front gardens and picket fences, the shop fronts with open windows gleaming with charmed cleanliness and displaying a hodgepodge of wares for the passers-by to peer at and become instantly distracted by. He'd seen it all before, every day of his life, and longing as he was to drink in every last glimpse of the town he'd grown up in it was hardly necessary. He'd been cataloguing every aspect of his surroundings, down to the exact colour of the violets in Mrs Magee's front garden to the exact pitch of the bell that chimed upon entry into Snack 'n Go since his mother had finalised the papers necessary for his transfer into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had a plethora of memories, of useless reminders and bright scenes that would last him until the Christmas break. Or at least he hoped they would.

Still, even knowing as much, even with the understanding that his memory was more than adept at retaining such information, the urge persisted. And before Hunith had led him down the back of Yellow Bridge Crescent and to the outskirts of the woods beyond, he was scanning around him once more. His throat had tightened almost painfully and the light-hearted casualness elicited by the banter he'd shared with Will but moments before had died into non-existence.

Hunith turned as she pulled to a stop at the end of the laneway passing towards the pathless woods. She propped Merlin's trunk beside her, hands folding to clasp before her and waited. Her face was a picture of tension, of worry and regret and sadness, as it had been for days now. But there was also resignation and acceptance there; she knew Merlin had to leave as much as he did.

Merlin turned towards Will as they too slowed to a stop. His friend seemed to be making a concerted effort to withhold his emotions, but Will had never been particularly good at restraining his anger, his joy, his sadness, and it was evidenced in the returned glassiness of his eyes. He attempted to speak, mouth working, but seemed incapable of producing words.

Merlin didn't mind. He engulfed Will in an embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding him tightly. Will's arms squeezed him back just as tightly and he pressed his face into Merlin's shoulder. They exchanged no words; no more were necessary, and Merlin wasn't sure he could bring himself to speak any more than Will could.

Finally, they drew away from one another. Merlin wasn't sure who broke the embrace first, but neither could look directly at one another when they did. Part embarrassment and part grief stilted what was usually so comfortably casual. Will patted Merlin on his shoulder in a way that Merlin recognised as being reminiscent of his father's gesture of awkward affection. Then he stepped backwards, taking a deep breath in an evident an attempt to steady himself and propped what was very obviously a forced smile onto his face.

It wasn't exactly an eloquent exchange on either of their parts, but was the best that Merlin could hope for. It was all that he really needed.

He turned to his mother, and any attempt at a smile fell from his face. It wasn't needed, not with his mother. Hunith wasn't smiling, but though sorrow was still writ upon her face it had softened. She knew, even more than Will did, how hard this was. She knew that Merlin didn't want to leave her, was scared despite holding his tongue and refraining from admitting as much. Merlin stepped across the distance between them and immediately found himself engulfed in his mother's arms. She wasn't much taller than him these days but somehow still seemed able to wrap him entirely within her embrace.

They held one another silently for a moment. When Hunith finally spoke it was nearly inaudibly as she whispered into his ear. "Stay safe, my son. Learn much and… and try to enjoy yourself."

Merlin gave a choked laugh that, muffled as it was, sounded even closer to tears than Will had a short time before. He nodded into his mother's shoulder. "I will, Mum."

"Write to me often. I want to know everything that's going on, alright? Even the little things."

"I will."

"And don't do anything foolish." Her voice became quieter still. "Don't use your Gift, Merlin. Please, don't use it. Wandless magic is one thing, something that people will even respect you for when they find out, but your Gift must remain hidden."

Merlin bit his lip, pressing his forehead into his mother's shoulder. It was an old discussion topi they'd long since agreed would have no favourable conclusion. "What if it helps someone to –?"

"Not even then," Hunith murmured, a sharp edge to her voice. Merlin knew from long experience that such sharpness was less anger and more fierce protectiveness. "Merlin, not even then."

"But Mum –"

"No, Merlin." She squeezed him more tightly, so tightly it was almost painful. "Your safety is that which is of most concern to me. I don't care about anyone else. No one would understand if they found out, regardless of how you chose to use your Gift."

Merlin pressed his lips together withholding his urge to argue further. Surely if someone needed his help… if someone desperately needed the aid of what Merlin's Gift could provide…

But Mum would never understand that. And just like she says, it's dangerous. I don't even full know what I can do. Merlin knew from repeated exclamations to the subject that even as a Healer Hunith would never put anyone else's safety, anyone else's welfare, above Merlin's. It was both a blessing and a curse for Merlin, and he could feel nothing but sore, exasperated gratitude for the fact. Hunith, alongside Will, were two of only a handful of people in the world who truly knew the nature of his Gift. Similarly, they were the only people who knew that he would never – never – use it for anything but Good.

Unfortunately, Merlin doubted that the rest of the world would see it quite like that. The very nature of his Gift provoked a less than favourable response.

Finally he nodded into his mother's shoulder and felt Hunith relax noticeably. Enough to tighten her squeezing embrace briefly once more. Then, drawing away, she brushed a kiss on the side of his head, a lingering press of lips that carried as much weight as her hold. She took a step backwards a moment later, dipped a hand into the pocket of her robes and offered him the tarnished silver bracelet she extracted. Merlin took it gingerly, almost reluctantly, wrapping his fingers around it tightly before stepping towards his trunk. He locked his free hand awkwardly around the joined handles of Zee's cage and his trunk and turned towards his mother once more.

She'd cast a Tempus Charm and was staring at it with more intensity that was entirely warranted. Biting her lip, she nodded curtly and turned back towards Merlin. Heaving a heavy breath, she furrowed her brow. "Are you sure I can't come with you? I would like to be there on your first day."

Merlin shook his head. "No, it's okay, Mum. I'll be fine, really. Gaius said he'd come and meet me straight away. And besides," he forced a cheeky grin onto his face that immediately served to ease Hunith's frown slightly, "I don't think any of the other kids have their parents dropping them off to school."

Hunith gave a quiet chuckle, shaking her head at his words. "Yes, but most students starting at school for the first time do so alongside dozens of other new arrivals. You're a special case, so if you –"

"Mum," Merlin sighed, casting his gaze skyward once more. "It would be embarrassing if you came along."

It wouldn't have been. Merlin didn't really care what anyone else thought of him. He had his mother, and he had Will, and that was all he truly cared about. Everyone else could go and hex themselves if they had a problem with him. But he didn't have to tell Hunith that. She likely already knew that too, even as she knew as well as Merlin did that it was all an excuse. That the real reason he didn't want his mother coming with him was because Portkey travel terrified her like little else. Just the fact that she was prepared to thrust aside that terror to accompany Merlin was more than reason enough for him to vehemently ensure that she didn't have to.

Will, whether he realised the reason behind their exchange or not, stepped forwards at that moment to Hunith's side with his own offer. "I could go with you. I've never travelled by Portkey before. It could be kind of fun to try."

"Not a all that fun, I can tell you," Merlin replied. He'd only travelled in such a mode of transport once before and wasn't keen to repeat it. Only necessity demanded as much, necessity driven by the fact that it was just as easy for him to Portkey from his home in Ireland to Hogwarts as it was to travel first to Kings Cross Station and thence catch the Hogwarts Express to the school. "Thanks anyway, Will."

"You depriving me of the chance to try something new?" Will pouted, but there was a smile on his lips.

"Saving you from the chance more like," Merlin replied.

"You always were like that, Selkie," Will said fondly, grinning as Merlin rolled his eyes at the childhood nickname. "Always too careful for your own good."

"And that is exactly as he should be," Hunith muttered, loud enough for Will to hear and to cringe sheepishly. Hunith only gave him a faintly reproving glance before turning towards Merlin. "Thirty seconds, Merlin. Are you sure you're alright?"

Merlin nodded, the flutter of butterflies in his stomach springing into life once more. He'd managed to quell them for most of the day but seemed incapable of doing so any longer. He tightened his grip of the Portkey and his luggage both. "I'm sure, Mum."

"Alright, then," Hunith nodded. "Take care. And really, don't forget to write me every chance you get. I'll be expecting one tonight at the very latest."

"Yeah, me too," Will added. "You gotta tell me which house you get sorted into."

"William, that's hardly of import." Hunith scowled at Will, triggering another sheepish cringe, and a "Sorry, Mrs Em". She shook her head, smiling faintly before turning back to Merlin. "It matters not which house you're sorted into Merlin. It doesn't matter -"

"I know, Mum. I'm not worried."

Hunith paused, opened her mouth then closed it again after a moment. When she spoke once more, her voice was rich with sadness and concern but also the distinctly golden colour of pride. "Good luck, my son. I'll miss you every hour."

"Miss you every minute," Merlin quoted.

"Miss you every second," Hunith completed with a small smile. "Don't forget that I love –"

Merlin didn't hear the rest of her words. Not that he needed to; she'd said as much to him enough times when he went only as far to sleep over at Will's house that it hardly needed saying at all. Abruptly, an unpleasant snagging hooked in his belly, right behind his navel, and sound morphed and skewed. Words disappeared as he grew suddenly weightless and was tugged into the swirling vortex of oblivion. The faces of Hunith and Will were the last that he saw before even his vision blacked out.

Hogsmeade was a perfectly quiet, picturesque little village. When Merlin appeared on its outskirts, nearly slipping on the slight incline he found himself upon, he was afforded a full view of the clutter of buildings that sat sidelong to the distant castle of Hogwarts. It was small, with barely more than a handful of houses ringing the central stretch of road that boasted what appeared to be a series of shops. They were reminiscent of those in Ealdor, from their half-wall windows and swinging signs hanging above the doors. If he squinted, Merlin could make out the calligraphic names painted at the top of those windows: Zonko's Joke Shop, Madam Puddifoots and Dervish and Banges, all of which he could only guess at what was sold. The streets and front lawns were dotted with people who moved at the same slow pace that Merlin was familiar with from his own town.

Merlin couldn't see Gaius, not when he scanned over the few bobbing heads that he could make out even at a distance. Whether his mother's friend was lost in one of the shops or had not yet arrived he wasn't sure. He could make out the building that appeared to be the Three Broomsticks, however, the site of their meeting point, so hefting his trunk in his hand and sparing Zee a glance that the rat replied to with a squeak, he set off down the hill.

It was just as quiet within the town as it had appeared from the hillside, Merlin noted with satisfaction. It wasn't that he was terribly averse to loud noises – far from it, he oftentimes appreciated the excitement that raucous behaviour entailed – but the butterflies in his belly were still flapping and he feared that too much excitement piled atop his nerves would be too much. At least for today.

He trundled his trunk down the cobbled central path, pausing to peer into the window of a shop called Honeydukes that evidently sold sweets, and to nod a greeting to an elderly witch draped in unseasonably heavy robes. He was barely a shop away from the distinctive steeple awning and wide door of the Three Broomsticks when that supposed peace was abruptly disrupted.

Tumbling like yapping puppies from the door of Zonko's Joke Shop, a party of young men – boys, really, for they couldn't be all that much older than Merlin himself – stopped him short. Laughter barked loudly from at least two of them and they moved with such jostling swagger that Merlin almost couldn't count how many there were. He drew to the side of the path as they passed without a glance in his direction, eyeing them with wary curiosity and contemplating that they may even be his future schoolmates. It was likely because of his close study that he noticed the boy in the very centre of their midst, a boy who very obviously did not want to be there. If anything he looked glaringly and twitchingly uncomfortable, if more than a little resigned to that discomfort.

Frowning, Merlin watched to see the casual lean of one tall boy upon the awkward boy's shoulder, saw another elbow him in the ribs in a way that could have been a friendly nudge had it not nearly bowled the boy over. And he saw the moment the said boy flinched, attempted to withdraw from the midst of the rest of the group, and nearly fell over himself when one grabbed at his shoulder with a smile and tugged him back along with them, preventing his leave. Another jostle of an elbow, coupled by more barks of laughter, was met by a muted cry of frustration or complaint, the words of which Merlin couldn't make out.

Merlin knew he shouldn't do anything. He knew that when his mother had told him to keep his Gift hidden she had also meant to remain hidden himself. Unobtrusive. Unnoticeable. Standing out was a sure way to draw unwanted attention, and attention would undoubtedly lead to people finding out.

But Merlin had grown to sorely disapprove of bullying. It was how he and Will had become friends in the first place, his best friend drawn from the cruelty and taunts of the other town's children to become something of a fifth limb to Merlin.

When Merlin saw the boy in the midst of the grinning older boys, he felt compelled to say something. The need was so pervasive that he almost considered someone was indeed compelling him to act, or would have had the feeling not been so reminiscent of how he had felt with Will all those years ago. Lowering his trunk to the ground, he hastened after their retreating figures.

This is stupid. It's stupid, it's not my place to say anything. I shouldn't say anything, but…

"Excuse me! Excuse me, please!"

It took several attempts, a full two streets and a corner of tentative calling to before the group of boys finally seemed to realise he addressed them. As one, the uncomfortable boy included, they turned towards him. Expressions of curiosity shifted into mixtures of disgruntlement and amusement, ridicule and mockery.

Merlin, slowing to a stop several feet away, straightening his spine to stand before them. He kept his voice free of warble or submission, forcing a friendly smile onto his face. "Hi. Sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering…" He looked directly at the boy embedded in the centre of their clutch. "Um, are you alright?"

The boy stared at him for a moment with widening eyes. He blinked several times, mouth opening and closing, before glancing at the boys that surrounded him. The boys that had shifted their stares from Merlin back to him instead.

It was not the boy who replied to Merlin's words. Instead, from the midst of the group one single boy stepped forward with a swagger that immediately made Merlin want to roll his eyes. He refrained from doing so with difficulty.

The boy was tall, though Merlin noticed with satisfaction not quite as tall as he, and carried the physique of one comfortable even in the growing lankiness of his body. His arms and legs were visibly muscled through his casual robes and Merlin immediately tagged him as being a sportsperson. The arrogance on his straight-featured face, in the toss of his head to flick his blond fringe from his eyes, bespoke as much if nothing else.

Probably a quidditch player or something, Merlin thought with faint derision. He wasn't inclined to participate in quidditch himself and largely considered those who did rather pig-headed. Will included.

The boy narrowed startlingly blue eyes at Merlin as he planted his feet in an unnecessarily wide stance. It would have been more impressive had he been slightly older than the thirteen or fourteen years that he appeared. The boy seemed to be the youngest of the group of them, which was surprising as when he spoke it was with the confidence of a spokesperson.

"Who are you?"

The question was blunt, demanding, and left absolutely no leeway for avoidance of answering. Even so, Merlin deliberately delayed his reply, running his eyes over each and every one of the boys that stood behind the blond one and cataloguing them. When he turned back to the first boy, it was to bite back a smirk at the indignant twitch that had begun in his eye.

"My name is Merlin. I've just –"

"Merlin?" The blond boy snorted explosively and descended into seemingly uncontrollable snickers. The boys behind him cackled like a pack of dutiful hyenas behind him. The blond boy's smirk stretched wider until it was more of an uncontrollable grin. "Seriously? Your name is Merlin?"

Sighing, Merlin held his tongue as another round of laughter begun. Typical, really. It was nothing he hadn't expected, hadn't experienced before, even if the arousal of such a situation was a little earlier in the day than he'd anticipated. He very rarely resented his mother but had done so on numerous occasions for his namesake. Hunith always blamed – with fondness – the insistence of Balinor, that even when he was just a newborn his late father had known, had felt, the strength of his magic. That he had said if anyone could do the great wizard of the past justice in a name it would be Merlin himself. Why anyone needed to in the first place was a mystery to Merlin.

The blond boy was speaking again. Somehow he managed to swagger even when standing still. "Well, Merlin, what do you want?"

Taking a deep breath, Merlin straightened his back from where he realised he'd somehow fallen to a slight cringe. He gestured towards the uncomfortable boy who shifted and fidgeted from foot to foot before him. "I was just wondering if he was okay?"

The blond raised his eyebrows, blinked in confusion for a moment and slowly turned towards the frightened boy who suddenly adopted a nervously guarded expression. Merlin was beginning to regret having acted at all, and not only for the other boy's sake. "Morris?"

The frightened boy – Morris – twitched slightly as the boys on either side of him turned their attention towards him. Morris seemed to be nearly writhing in his robes, though somehow, despite his discomfort and awkwardness, he managed to slip in a fierce glare at Merlin. Merlin blinked. He hadn't really been expecting such vehement aggression from the seemingly subdued boy. "Yes, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong, I don't –"

"It would seem, Morris," the blond overrode him, the same emphasis on the first syllable of his name as he'd done for Merlin's. "That you appear to be uncomfortable in our company."

"I'm not –"

"It seems that some people might think you uncomfortable. Does the fact that we want to talk to you about certain… things discomfort you?"

Merlin felt his hackles rise. He glared at the back of the blond boy's head, him more than the rest of his loyal dogs that nodded and turned expectantly to Morris with expressions of suspiciously attentive patience. What the hell was wrong with them? He was being such an ass!

Morris twitched once more, seemed on the verge of blurting something out, before he shook his head so sharply that Merlin almost feared for the safety of his neck. Less so when he flashed another furious glare at Merlin as though blaming him for his intrusion. "No, I don't. I mean, I do. I mean, there is of course much we need to talk about –"

"Is that right?" The blond interrupted him again. He nodded, still turned away from Merlin, and slouched further into his swaggering stance. "You agree that a conversation between us needs to take place?"

Morris twitched once more, but at least the furious glare he held was directed towards the ground this time rather than at Merlin. "Yes," he muttered. "Of course you'd think that. I knew it was going to happen. It's been a long time coming –"

"A long time coming, certainly," the blond overrode him for the third time. "And there's nothing wrong with hanging out with us, is there? We're not going to do anything but have a little chat. Even book-ravens like you understand, right, Morris?"

"Yes," Morris muttered, giving a sharp nod of his head instead this time. "I do. Unfortunately."

The blond finally turned back to Merlin. Merlin met his gaze with a flat stare of his own, pressing his lips together in an attempt to stem the flowing urge to insult the boy who was being so cruel, so deliberately cruel to some helpless kid, even if that kid was being a bit of an objectionable and ungrateful ass too. "You see that, Merlin? He wants to be with us. Or at least, he knows that we want to talk to him for just a little while. So stick your nose out of other people's business, why don't you?"

The rest of the boys jeered their agreement, nodding and grinning stupidly in a way that made Merlin want to raise his hand a hex their expressions with a Stasis Charm. Let them see how much they enjoy smirking when such twisted lips were a permanent fixture to their faces. Instead, he took another deep breath and affixed his attention onto the blond boy. "It doesn't seem that way, even if he says so."

"Really? He doesn't look like he wants to be here?"

"Not in the slightest. And I don't think you should make him spend time with you when he obviously doesn't want to."

The blond's smirk became more of a sneer, his lip curling slightly. "And what would you know about it? He doesn't look like he's enjoying himself? Well, maybe he just has to put up with it for a little while."

Merlin frowned, disliking the boy before him more and more with each passing second. "I really doubt that he deserves you treating him like this."

The blond's gaze was hooded, his pale eyes sparkling with his own unconcealed dislike. "Why would you doubt my word?"

"Because out of the two of you, you seem more like an ass."

The words were out of Merlin's mouth before he could stop them. He immediately snapped his jaw closed, pressing his lips together, but the damage was already done.

The blond didn't react at first. His face was blank, even as those of his cronies dropped their smirks into expressions of shock and incredulity. Then the sneer was back, and it was twisted in less disgustful dislike and more lathered in a thick layer of fury. "What did you just call me?"

Merlin should have kept his mouth closed. He could recognise by age thirteen when he'd stepped too far. But his tongue, for all of his mind's supposed intelligence, once more appeared to be on an entirely different wavelength to that of his brain. "I called you an ass which, if the last five minutes I've seen of you is anything to go by, is completely accurate."

It should have been impossible, but somehow the blond's face doubled in fury. His cheeks flushed with bright spots of redness and his eyes narrowed in an unshakeable glare that actually made Merlin take an unconscious step backwards. When he spoke it was in a growl that should have been too deep for him to produce at his age. "You'll pay for that, you little bastard."

Merlin only had a second to think – huh, second time I'm been called a bastard this morning – before his body responded for him. Without a second glance, not even pausing to see if Morris was all right, he spun on his heel and fled. In seconds, a startled shout was bellowed after him, a shout that descended into angry curses. The pounding of running footsteps fell into rapid step behind him.

Merlin was not a good runner. He held hopes that the blond and his cronies wouldn't be either, but they were not high hopes; Will was faster than him and he wasn't exceptionally athletic himself. But he ran anyway, fleeing to the sounds of "Go, Arthur!" and "Come on, Jules" and "Just leave Morris, you idiot, come on!" He spared only half a thought of thanks that Morris was relieved of their presence, could possibly escape their accompaniment, before he focused fully upon flight.

He wouldn't get far, Merlin knew. He didn't have a plan in place of how to escape his unexpected pursuers, especially as, turning the corner, he caught a glimpse of his trunk and Zee's cage still propped in the middle of the footpath. How could he possibly escape dragging them behind him?

Someone was evidently looking out for him, however, for barely a dozen steps away from his luggage the door to the sidelong Three Broomsticks opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

"Gaius!"

Merlin skidded to a stop before the man who was his uncle in all but blood. It took every ounce of his self-control not to glance over his shoulder, to flinch or drop to the ground in an attempt to avoid the onrush of the boys that chased him. He could only hope that the sight of Gaius, member of Hogwarts staff body and all, would be enough to stall them.

Apparently it did. Or it could have been the intent stare that Gaius cast over his shoulder, white eyebrow rising in a truly terrifying display of threat. He stared for a moment longer, and though Merlin still resisted glancing behind him, he was left with the impression that Gaius was very deliberately shooing his pursuers away.

Finally, Gaius turned his attention back to Merlin. His dark gaze was intent but there was a slight quiver to the corners of his downturned lips, a quirk to his raised eyebrow that suggested he was suppressing a bout of amusement. He folded his hands into the sleeves of his brown robes, the same brown robes that Merlin could swear he'd worn every day since he was a child. Each of the times he'd seen his uncle he'd worn nothing but. "Enjoying ourselves are we, Merlin?"

The relief at his escape, the giddiness that arose with his sort-of triumph, spread a grin across Merlin's lips. If it was slightly sheepish, he felt he could hardly blame himself, what with the faintly reprimanding cast to Gaius' face. "Very much." And without another pause, he stepped forwards and slipped his arms around his uncle's torso.

The smile finally broke through Gaius' carefully composed façade as he wrapped Merlin in a returning hug that was surprisingly strong for his stick insect frame. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Well, you've certainly made an impression with some of your schoolmates, that's for sure."

Merlin winced but once more withheld the desire to glance over his shoulder. He untangled himself from Gaius' hold and stepped over to his trunk to grab the handle and lift it up once more. "So they are, huh? My classmates?"

"All attend Hogwarts, yes, but only Arthur Pendragon and Michael Morris are in your year."

Merlin frowned. He knew who Morris was of course, but Arthur… The name Pendragon was... "Which one was Arthur?"

"The blond boy leading the charge in your wake with such ardent determination." Gaius shook his head. "It appears he did not take to you terribly well."

Merlin winced once more. "That bad, huh?" Of course it would be the boy he'd called a ass to his face who was in his year. Of course it would be.

"I will hazard that, had he been able to cast magic outside of Hogwarts' wards then you would be riddled with boils at this point," Gaius replied mildly. Clinically, as was his way. "You could have chosen a less, ah… objectionable opponent for your sharp tongue, Merlin."

"How do you know it was something I said," Merlin muttered. Then he frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Gaius' smile was not allowing itself to be suppressed quite so successfully this time. "Only that Arthur is the first and only son of Uther Pendragon." He paused for a moment, then, evidently deducing that Merlin was a little slow on joining the dots, said, "Your Headmaster."

Merlin groaned, dropping his head onto the top of Zee's cage so that he was folded nearly double in his slump. Of course that would be the case. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"No, I'm quite certain," Gaius replied merrily. He seemed to be nothing if not revelling in Merlin's misery. Patting him on the shoulder with what felt more like a hearty boost of amusement than consolation, he turned and gestured down the street in what Merlin perceived as being the general direction of the school. "You'd probably to well to repair the damage done, but not now. Perhaps not today. Quite aside from that, Merlin, have you taken your lunch yet?"

Straightening from his slump, Merlin sighed heavily. Yes, he was doing that far too much of late. But he thrust aside the woebegone reality that had just presented itself to him; how he could have made what was apparently an enemy out of the Headmaster's son so quickly was a mystery to him, but it appeared to be so. And he knew that Gaius was right – there really was very little Merlin could do about it at present, unless he chose to turn around and attempt to immediately rectify the situation.

He didn't. Not when Arthur apparently had a hoard of eager and loyal wolves at his beck and call. Besides, his stomach agreed that an offer of lunch was far too tempting an opportunity to pass up.

"Lunch sounds great," he said, and, allowing Gaius to charm his luggage with a Follow-Me Charm, they set off down the road in the direction of his new school.

Arthur watched as the dark-haired boy with the Irish accent made his way in the opposite direction that he and his friends stood, peering around the corner of Madam Puddifoot's. The other boys muttered and grumbled amongst themselves, growing increasingly indignant in their exclamations over the boy that they had so nearly caught.

Until Master Livingstone had appeared, had recognised the boy, and had raised his famous eyebrow in a very deliberate and very familiar non-verbal demand to "Cease, desist, and go away". Everyone at Hogwarts knew about Livingstone's eyebrow. Even Arthur knew to back down from pursuing his target in the face of such deterrence, especially when, not a minute later, he had embraced the boy with such obvious affection.

Arthur listened with only half an ear to his friends. His holiday friends, they were, and all of them older than he by at least a year. Most either lived in Hogsmeade or were the unfortunate get – children, relatives or distant relations – of the professors at Hogwarts and thence required to stay on the grounds for a good portion of the summers break. Arthur didn't particularly like most of them, and they held not a candle to the affection he felt for his dorm mates, but it was better than nothing. Besides, they were helping him to teach Michael Bloody Morris a lesson.

Morris had been a thorn in Arthur's side since school had begun. At their first confrontation, when Arthur had attempted to extend a hand of friendship to him, he had expressed his desire to pursue anything but. It was only later, after many largely one-sided quarrels that became increasingly mutual, that Arthur had realised exactly why Morris disliked him.

His father had a beef with Uther. Something about purebloods and ancient grudges. And hence Morris had a beef with Arthur. That was it.

Arthur had never particularly approved of pureblood conflicts. Oh, he'd been more than ready to engage in the intricate dances, to learn the courtesies and practice the etiquette, but their usefulness would always baffle him. Had always baffled him, and even more so since he'd first begun attending school and come to realise that the rest of the world didn't act the way he did, that they didn't speak to their elders with iron-hard formalities or adopt speech so complex it was almost another language depending upon the status of those they spoke to.

At first, Arthur had been appalled. How could anyone not act in such a way? Surely it was just manners, wasn't it? But soon, that disbelief had faded into contemplation and shifted to a study of his own actions. Triggered mostly by Leon, he would admit, with his blunt yet kindly translations of the oddities of Arthur's behaviour when compared to his fellow dorm mates. Leon, as a halfblood and one of Arthur's oldest friends, was something of his translator and informed Arthur that apparently the way he was the world was 'weird'.

There were few enough real purebloods in Hogwarts these days. Enough that Arthur had made it his mission to befriend each of them if he could. Most had been largely indifferent, or recognised his attempts for what they were and had responded graciously and accordingly.

Except for Morris. Morris seemed to have made it his mission to outshine Arthur in every way possible, to poke and prod at him, to make him look the fool before their professors. It had taken Arthur two years before he'd blown his fuse and requested the combined efforts of his holiday friends to confront the niggling annoyance that was Michael Morris and shove him into place. It was simple convenience that Morris – respectable pureblood that he was – always came to school a day before his inferiors so as not to sully his shoes with the scum from the Hogwarts Express.

"We should go after him."

The words from one of the boys behind Arthur – it sounded like Jules – drew his attention from where he watched the disappearing figures of Livingstone and what appeared to be his nephew or something. He raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend. "Who, Merlin?"

"Don't be an idiot, Jules," Humphrey said, punctuating his words with a cuff to the back of Jules' head that nearly knocked him to the ground. Humphrey never seemed to appreciate his own strength. "Didn't you see Livingstone? He'll chew you a new one if we chase that kid down now."

Jules rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't mean the Merlin kid. I'm not that stupid. I was talking about Morris." He turned his attention to Arthur. "You wanted us to put him fully through his paces, yeah? No more messing around with you?"

Arthur offered him a wan smile. "If you would. Just so long as you don't, you know, hurt him or anything."

"No problems, Arthur," Dannie said, patting Arthur on his shoulder hard enough to elicit a grunt. Dannie was only slightly smaller than Humphrey, and could give him a good run for his money in an arm-wrestle. "We'll show him what happens when he acts like a right ass to our friends."

Arthur flinched slightly at the use of the term that the boy, Merlin, had flung at him twice not minutes before. He bit back the urge to grumble an objection to Dannie, as much for the disregard of his request to 'not hurt' Morris as for the word itself. "Thanks. Just make sure you don't terrify the shit out of him or anything. I don't want his father to come whinging to mine."

Dannie chuckled. "Yeah, will do, Arthur. Will do." Then he gestured to the other half dozen or so boys around him with a sweep of his arm. "Come along then, lads. We've got our commission to be seeing to."

The rest of the boys exclaimed in a collection of shouts of varying enthusiasm, all turning from watching along the now-empty main street of Hogsmeade back in the direction for which they'd abandoned Morris. Arthur shook his head, pausing in the act of following them. He'd been as enthusiastic as the rest of them but half an hour beforehand, but since moments ago had become well and truly distracted. He had been, he admitted, since the moment he'd turned to face the owner of the clear, concerned voice, since he'd clapped eyes upon the open face, the sharp, angular chin and even sharper cheekbones, of Merlin. Since he'd found himself the focus of curiously wide blue eyes blinking at him with a guilelessness that had made him consider for a moment that the other boy may be a simpleton.

He hadn't been. There was intelligence behind his words, that much Arthur could recognise. Even if they had exchanged barely a few heated words. Unfortunately for Arthur – or perhaps more correctly, unfortunately for Merlin – that intelligence was momentarily absented when he so disastrously put his own foot in his mouth.

The stupid little idiot, Arthur thought, a scowl creeping once more onto his face as he fell into a slow jog after his friends. You'll wish you never tried to defend that twit Morris. I'll teach you to read the situation a little better and know when to pull your nose out of it.

Yet for all of his anger, all of his resentment towards the unfamiliar face of the horrendously named Merlin, he couldn't shake the other boy from his mind. There was just something about this 'Merlin'. Something that managed to divert his attention from where he should have been focusing it, which was upon the sudden appearance of the skulking Morris hastening around the distant corner. Perhaps it was simply that, unlike with everyone else in the world, even his own friends at first, Merlin hadn't seemed to be intimidated by his standing, by his presence, by his words. He hadn't seemed intimidated at all, in fact, and very obviously spoke his mind.

Or maybe it had something to do with that strange feeling, that trembling quiver on the edges of his consciousness, that drew his attention like the memory of a scent, just niggling on the fringes of his awareness and just out of reach. A hint of coldness, an unfamiliar shimmer, that felt just a little magical.

Arthur wasn't sure what it was, and after their first confrontation he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out.

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. If you did - or didn't, or just have anything else to say - please take a second to leave a review to tell me what you think. I'll probably be posting these pretty quickly, actually, as it's already all written and edited. It's just about me remembering to do so, I think :p
If you'd like to take a look at the beautiful, wonderful art created for this story, please take a look at that of matchboximpala here: . . I'll post up the links to the art as I go with the story as it corresponds to specific parts but seriously, go check it out. She's awesome.
Anyway, thanks so much and I hope you like the rest of the story!