Hello. It's been a year since the last update and I've just realised that I never finished uploading my pre-existing chapters for this story. I actually have about 30k words worth of story saved on my laptop. So there's that. I've been distracted with uni and the general pandemic sweeping the world. How's everyone doing? Hopefully well. Also, I hope I can give you some sort of comfort with this new update.

Merlin followed Draco at a distance; he didn't wish for anyone to know of their association, because that would constitute as something out-of-character for him, never mind for a Gryffindor. Every time he passed a suit of armour he was given a nod or a salute. Portraits gave him winks or waves.

They approached a hallway on the seventh floor where Draco Malfoy suddenly stopped and turned to face the wall. Then he walked three times back and forth. Merlin watched with fascination as a pair of magnificent doors appeared; he had never seen through his eyes as Merlin.

Malfoy glanced up and down the hallway, before nodding at Merlin and then pushing through the door. Merlin followed him and gently shut the doors behind him. Outside in the corridor, these same doors disappeared.

He was easily surprised by the decor that the Room of Requirement had taken on. It was a sort of winter garden belonging to a massive manor, possibly the Malfoy's. It had a peaceful quality to it, with its many aromatic plants and warm temperature. Merlin immediately felt comfortable.

"Malfoy manor's hidden winter garden," Draco said, once their silence had dragged on for an uncomfortable while. Merlin hummed in interest, looking around.

Light flooded in through the glass roof, but it being winter, it wasn't oppressive. Around them, the country-side view was covered with a blanket of snow so thick that even the trees in the distance seemed to melt into it.

"It's quite beautiful," Merlin remarked. A small, earnest smile crossed Malfoy's lips. They waited a minute longer, until suddenly they heard a patter of feet in front of the general area where the door was supposed to be, and five familiar people stepped in. Not noticing Merlin at first, they strolled in with a sombre seriousness and took their places in various comfortable chairs and armchairs set up throughout the winter garden.

"Harry — Merlin, what are you doing here!" Neville had spoken first, eyes wide as his mouth popped open. Merlin, who was tired of being used as an expletive almost chastised himself, but was also just as surprised to see his roommate in this circle of Druidic Hogwarts students.

"I wasn't aware you had Druidic heritage," Merlin said, frowning. He stretched out a tendril of magic and stealthy tested out Neville's. It was oddly protected. It was then that Merlin's gaze alighted on a small flint medallion that Neville wore around his neck. A protective sigil was carved into the stone.

"My gran gave me this to protect from any Druids that might be helping You-Know-Who. She said they'd be trying to exploit me—"

"Tosh," Merlin interrupted seriously. All eyes turned to him with interest. He realised that these children had no idea of what magic and heritage they had inherited. "Druids don't side with the light or with the dark, Dumbledore or Voldemort (Draco and the other Slytherin hissed uncomfortably). They side with Magic herself, who is neutral."

"You seem tah know a lotta 'bout this," Lucy Carmichael said. Merlin was vaguely aware of her; she was a year under him and was in Ravenclaw. An O's student, apparently. He'd often heard the boys in his house fawning over her. She had, however, a very thick accent.

"I do."

Blaise Zabini was the other Slytherin; he sat at Draco Malfoy's side and betrayed little to no emotion.

Neville was the last boy. He had stood up in surprise upon seeing Merlin standing in the back of the winter garden. Also gathered in the Room of Requirement, was a girl from Hufflepuff, fourth year by the look of it, and one more from Gryffindor and another from Ravenclaw. Merlin was proud to see that the Druidic community was so well integrated in all of the houses.

"Harry," Malfoy stressed the first-name. Blaise looked at him in surprise. "Is our new teacher. His… knowledge seems to surpass our own where Druidic magic is concerned and whereas we all had to share one tome before, he seems to know where we can get more."

Looks of excitement quickly appeared on the three younger girls.

"I'm Mary Bones — you taught me in the DA last year!" A fourth year Hufflepuff by the look of it.

"Yes, I remember. And you were also there, weren't you, Laura. Laura Moon was it?" The third year Ravenclaw student nodded enthusiastically.

"Alicia Spinnet," said said girl, rising from her seat to shake Merlin's hand. He laughed quietly.

"You're my best seeker, I should know who you are, Alicia," he said kindly. The girl blushed. Indeed, March wasn't too far away and they would be playing their penultimate game against Hufflepuff.

"Shall we sit?" Draco had stood up out of politeness once the girls had moved to their feet. The girls sat, and so did he. Merlin remained standing.

"I'm curious, I have felt Druidic magic in this castle for some time, but only Malfoy's. Are the rest of you protecting yourselves with the same medallions?" The group nodded or made affirmative sounds. Merlin hummed in interest.

"Kingsley gave them to us — well, except for Neville," Laura Moon said, eager to please anyone with knowledge. She was a Ravenclaw, after all.

"Come again? Kingsley?" Merlin drew his eyebrows to a frown.

"All yehr supposed knowledge and yeh don't know 'bout Kingsley Shaklebolt?" Lucy Carmichael taunted. Merlin had always despised those who dangled information.

"I'm… somewhat self-taught," he evaded. She harrumphed, but offered no answer. Blaise took over.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt heads the Cluain clan. A clan is a society of sorts — for Druids. Most of the other clans consider themselves 'pure' and will take in muggles, on rare occasions. But they don't want modern wizards who might 'sully' their reputation. They've existed for a thousand years at least," Blaise said, his tone grave. "Kingsley sought us all out once our Druidic magic began acting out and helped us onto our feet. All of us except for Draco and Longbottom accepted the invitation to remain in the clan too, not just train with each other."

"He only had the one tome available," Malfoy continued, producing an old and tattered thing. It took Merlin a moment to realise where he had seen it before, but a small smile immediately appeared on his face once he finally recognised it as the very first text he had written for the children who'd lived in his own clan for a while. Easy spells, easy concepts. He had had no idea that Druidic magic had devolved so much… third, fourth, fifth, and sixth years all casting the same spells? At the same level?!

"Have other clans… survived?" Merlin felt his throat go dry as he wondered whether his own still functioned. He had been rather fond of their methods and values.

"From what Kingsley's told us — and me gran — there's seven. There's Arthek, leads the Ylfing clan, pretty aggressive sort of magic. The Gutyn clan is lead by Ellis. There are four others, but I don't think Kingsley ever gave me their names. I told him I didn't want to take sides this early on — I was and am on your side, Harry," Neville said, sobering at the end. Merlin patted him on the shoulder, wondering why people felt the constant need to appoint him as leader, but felt nevertheless quite touched.

"I think I remember a Balinor?" Mary Bones said slowly. Her friend, Laura Moon literally snapped her fingers at her in sudden realisation.

"Of course!" Laura exclaimed. "There was the Ealdor clan — it's even referenced in the tome. We can't read it very well, because it's in ancient—"

Merlin's gaze shot towards her excitedly.

"You said Ealdor?" His heart was beating wildly in his chest. They were his family. Very distant, but family.

"Er, yes. Kingsley was talking about forming a coalition with them for the war. Everyone in our clan is going to… well, you know, try and fight the dark side, and he's trying to win over the druids, starting with Ealdor," Alicia replied for Lily and Mary, evidently also wanting to show Merlin some portion of her knowledge.

Merlin mused over this angrily. If this was truly what Kingsley was trying to do, then he had massively misinterpreted whatever other Druidic texts he owned. He began pacing, aware that the other Hogwarts students were eyeing him nervously; his magic had begun acting up and he instantly calmed himself. Malfoy was eyeing him with newfound respect, evidently having only just now realised that the power that Merlin had just displayed was only a small portion of what he could truly do.

"He's got it very wrong," he told the students. His students now, he supposed.

"Magic is neutral. She is sentient and she is a sort of deity to be respected. Used, but respected with reverence. Modern magic stems from the wizard himself. Druidic magic, however, draws from the universal and dimensional energies simultaneously with one's own. To draw from the universe and the various dimensions, a balance must exist. One must simultaneously draw from the dark and the light for the balance to remain — has the tome not taught you as much?"

Neville blushed and he picked it up from the table upon which Draco had left it. He flickered through it.

"Draco and I are the only ones who took ancient runes, so we kinda skipped over the theory and went straight to the spells."

Merlin pursed his lips. Perhaps it was time for them to get a small taste for true Druidic power.

"Watch."

He extended a hand, palm upwards. A flame instantly appeared over his hand. His audience gasped; even Malfoy couldn't resist a gawp.

"Fire is the purest of all magics. It is light — very literally on the light, and the first thing that magic created when making the universe."

This sort of show was what he had done for the little Druidic children back in his first lifetime. They had enjoyed it, but had all left with a renewed respect and understanding for the Old Religion.

"But where there is a light, there is a shadow," said Merlin, gesturing at the soft shadow that had appeared behind one of the chairs. "The Old Religion is about harnessing this," Merlin snapped his fingers and the flame sprung to life again. "And that—"

Their gazes all turned to the theatre of shadows that played out against the cover of the book that Neville was holding. The shadows jumped off of the book and seemed to almost come to life, growing until they were the size of an average House-Elf. They attacked the leg of the table and it instantly toppled over. Merlin disbanded the shadow-warriors.

"I harnessed the power of the light, to create warriors of the dark. A balance remained. That is a lesson to you that magic is but a tool and we must use it wisely. I will translate the tome for you. I cannot begin teaching you until you have all read at least all of the theory — and understood it."

He took the tome from Neville, flicking through it again, recognising his chicken-scratch penmanship, even when writing in runes. He whispered a spell under his breath, passing a hand over the closed cover. He felt his eyes heat up with a golden light and… voila. A second tome appeared in his book, now in English.

Merlin placed both on the now repaired table, turned, and left the Room of Requirement.

.

When March rolled into April, Merlin came to the rather radical decision that he would not be able to live with himself any longer if Hermione and Ron did not know the truth. He had been gearing up to tell them for some time, and had chosen a specific morning to do so, when in his morning mail, he received not only Dumbledore's latest chess move, but also the news that Aragog, Hagrid's King acromantula, had died.

He sent off an answer to Dumbledore about both his chess move, and his apologies about having to move their outing with Flamel to the next day, as Aragog's funeral took precedence, him being a creature of the Old Religion. Merlin headed off to his classes, with Hermione hot at his heels.

They passed in a sort of daze, as they usually did these days. He was doing terrible in all his classes except potions. His magic simply did not work the way modern wizards used it. Before he had regained his power, it had already been somewhat troublesome and after he had, his Druidic magic had completely dwarfed whatever this reincarnation had inherited from James and Lily.

Whilst Dumbledore's wand worked better than his old one had (Merlin suspected that the wand held some sort of creature from the Old Religion), the moment danger struck, he would either use his 'wandless' magic, or need a staff for anything more complicated. Hence his anticipation for that night's meeting with Flamel — hopefully the man had that magical object in his Emrys-collection, as it was known around certain magical communities.

"You've been out of sorts today," Hermione said quietly as they left their last class for the day. "Well, more than usual," she added on, having caught Ron's eye-roll.

"Aragog's dead."

"Well good riddance, I say!" Ron exclaimed, a shudder running through him just at the thought of spiders. Acromantuli were creatures of the Old Religion, one of the only ones still alive today and whenever someone or something a part of it died, the whole Druidic community felt it.

"Death is never a 'good riddance'," Merlin admonished sternly. Ron had the decency of looking slightly ashamed.

"Is Hagrid doing a sort of funeral?" Hermione asked quickly, attempting to diffuse the tension. Merlin nodded.

"Just before dinner. Yes. Outside his hut."

"We'll come with you. Hagrid will need all the support he can get," Hermione said kindly. Ron gave her a look that said she was crazy.

"We are?" His voice was very, very high. Merlin laughed at his expense, not being able to help it.

"Yes, Ronald, we are. Hagrid is our friend and we'll support him."

They deposited their bags in the common room and then traipsed all the way back down to the Entrance Hall. From there on, they walked at a leisured pace to Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid had dug a massive hole in the ground behind his hut, right on the border between the Hogwarts grounds and the Forbidden Forrest. The acromantula lay there, lifeless and limp. His legs had tucked themselves into his body. The many eyes were shut and his limp mouth was slightly open, revealing a few fangs connected to their venom-sacks, which Merlin knew modern wizards liked to use for valuable potions. In his book this was as atrocious as using unicorn blood for healing.

Slughorn stood next to Hagrid and Fang. He wore a sad expression, but his eyes kept settling back on the venom sacks with greed. Merlin frowned, disapproving. Hermione and Ron came to a stop on his either side and when Slughorn turned to look at the newcomers, he quickly ducked his head. He had become increasingly more weary of Merlin as the year went on.

"Farewell, Aragog, king of arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won't forget! Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun places of your forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained," Slughorn delivered his eulogy with a flourish, but Merlin noticed him slip in a little vial of venom into his robes… that despicable—

Hermione coughed a little too loudly for her to just be clearing her throat and Merlin noticed that frost had appeared in the area around them. He licked his lips nervously and calmed down, the frost remained.

"Hagrid, may I?" Merlin murmured to the giant as he and Slughorn began turning away into the hut to drink Hagrid's sorrows away, and for the potion's master to presumably celebrate his victories in getting this rare venom.

The half-giant gave him a confused stare but Merlin gave him a reassuring smile and the man nodded. What loyalty and trust!

Merlin approached the giant spider and briefly laid a hand on the centre of its body. He murmured an incantation that was supposed to see the transition of druids into the after-life. He had no idea if it would help a magical creature, but a blessing from him would not go wasted.

Deciding that this was not enough to commemorate the majestic power that was this creature, he gathered his magic, and blasted it at the grave that Hagrid had created. In an instant, crystal just seemed to erupt from the air around the spider, covering it in a massive glass casing. The acromantula was still visible, albeit distorted by the irregularities in the crystal. But it was indestructible. Aragog would serve as a reminder that the Old Religion lived on.

Hagrid instantly burst into tears and thanked Merlin profusely. Slughorn guided him away to his hut, presumably to drink together.

Merlin sighed and turned to his two friends who were staring at him in amazement. Ron kept looking between him and the crystal and Hermione's whole jaw had dropped. Ah, he'd forgotten the wand, right.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron had regained his word-smithing brain-regions first. Hermione was quick to follow with a whole barrage of questions relating to 'what spell did you use?' or 'was that more accidental than theoretical?'.

"My friends, I must confess something to you," Merlin said, cutting through all of her questions. Her jaw shut in mid-speech. Ron looked at him attentively.

"But not here," he murmured to them, and guided them back to the castle, where he guided them in the direction of the dungeons. He descended down the steps into the darkness. Having spent a lifetime in this castle already, he could walk through it blind, but for his friends' benefit, he cast a lighting spell; in an instant, the torches all lit up.

They had spent more time than expected at the funeral. Dinner had come and gone, and most of the castle had gone to sleep. Their footsteps were suddenly much louder than usually.

Finally, he guided them to a portrait of the familiar face of Salazar Slytherin. Not that Hermione and Ron knew that. He gave the portrait a small salute and it slowly moved to the side.

"Well, go on. Quick, before Snape catches us," he murmured to them quietly, when they hesitated at the porch. They quickly stumbled in.

"Oh my God, these are the potions professor's quarters! We can't be here, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah mate, we all know Slughorn likes you — but we'll all get detention if— what are you doing?"

Merlin smiled at them as he reached to the ornament beside the fireplace; the small snake head had followed their every movement since they had entered the room and now flicked it's tongue in the air. Regardless of the fact that it was made out of marble, the snake was fascinatingly flexible. Merlin stroked it's head, before giving it a gentle nudge of magic.

It gave a hiss and disappeared into the other ornaments. Several metallic noises sounded before the fireplace dismantled before their very eyes, much like the archway to Diagon Alley appeared to first-timers, or walk-ins from the muggle world.

Hermione gasped in surprise.

"Harry… what is this?"

"Why don't you go and see?" Merlin said mischievously. He stepped right through and pulled Ron along. She followed them this time without hesitating. The fireplace closed behind them and this time, Hermione actually staggered at the sight that was revealed before them:

A large Hall, perhaps not as big as the Great Hall, but somewhat like Dumbledore's office, appeared. Books lined every wall; and above them was a glass dome that placed them directly under the lake. A mermaid swam past them, not noticing a thing, even as Merlin's mere presence lit every torch and chandelier in the room.

"This… is…" Ron began. Not a fan of libraries, he still seemed amazed by the sight.

"Beautiful…" Hermione finished for him. She began taking slow steps into the centre of the room until her curiosity got the better of her and she began examining the books. A desk was positioned at the far end. It was the only place where the glass dome continued to the floor so that one's view as one wrote at one's desk, was the magnificence of underground lake-life. Far in the distance a metal sword hilt glinted in the moon's light.

Merlin approached his desk hesitantly, knowing what he'd find there. His unfinished letter to the Founders, reminding them of the danger of relying only on modern magic, and completely disregarding Druidic magic as old-fashioned and a relic. He had never been able to finish the letter when Hogwarts had been attacked by Mordred. Merlin had died battling him and protecting his home; Camelot, Hogwarts, whatever it was called.

"What is this place?" Hermione whispered reverently. She had moved to his side, as he blew the dust off of the letter and disregarded quill. The Gaelic script was nothing like what people wrote like today, but that had been the language with which the Founders had communicated with Merlin. He had been and old man when he had met them and begun helping them set up the school in his old stomping grounds and beyond learning Old Norse or English.

Ron, who had been examining an array of weapons hanging on a wall, walked over, interested in whatever Merlin would have to say. For once, he was not complaining or attempting to get Hermione's attention.

Merlin picked up a leather-bound book which had been left open on his desk. His last spell-book. The spine cracked as he took it into his hands.

"Harry! These things are really fragile!" Hermione exclaimed, moving to take the book from him. But he quickly flicked the pages to the very first page. Thankfully, he had thought to cast some powerful stasis charms when he had first chosen to begin writing in it.

"Can you read this?" Merlin asked, showing her the Druidic runes on the very first page. There were only four of them, easy enough to read. Hermione frowned as her academic interest took over.

"It looks like Druidic…" she trailed off, eyes narrowing as she translated the runes into syllables.

"Yes…?" Merlin prompted. Ron leaned forwards to get a look.

"Em… I think that's Emry…"

"Emrys, isn't it?" Ron asked suddenly. Merlin and Hermione looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. "Mum used to read me stories from Beedle the Bard, that symbol comes up a few times."

"Do you know what the second part means?" Hermione asked him. He shrugged again. Her hand dropped on his shoulder and trailed down to his hand anyway in a small, affectionate show of thanks. Merlin knew that he had broken up with Lavender the week before. Hermione and him had quickly hit it off, in a more romantic sense.

"Well… Let's see… That's definitely Ambr… Oh! Emrys Ambrosius!"

Her mind only seemed to catch up with her mouth a few seconds later when she let out a squeal of terror… or perhaps delight. It was hard to tell.

"Oh my God, oh my—" she continued repeating the expletive several times until even Ron told her that she was being a bit hysterical.

"No, no no… Ron! You don't understand… This belongs to Emrys — the Emrys — Ron — this is Merlin's!"

Ron's jaw dropped as he made the connection too, undoubtedly knowing the name, as he had been raised by a family full of wizards, after all.

"Mate… how in the bloody hell did you find this place?" Ron was looking around with a renewed appreciation. Merlin smiled at them and led through an archway decorated with little marble statuettes, to a little sitting area with a small fireplace. Once upon a time, there had been an official entrance to this office, where students had come to ask questions about their assignments, but the Founders seemed to have boarded that up, not knowing that Merlin had built in an emergency entrance and exit for himself as well.

He lit the fireplace with a wave of his hand, as it was futile to continue attempting to conceal his true power. He asked them to sit. They were too stupefied to do anything else. He remained standing as he paced in front of them nervously. Dumbledore had been a whole other deal. These were his friends, he didn't want to be idolised and revered by anyone, least of all by his friends.

"My friends, you must understand that whatever I withheld from you, I did for my personal safety and… perhaps partially out of egoism… and my obsession with the possibility of leading a normal life. As it has turns out… this is impossible. Because of who I am… because of who I was."

"Who you were…?" Ron repeated, blinking at him. His head seemed to have made the connection already, but his mouth wasn't functioning properly.

"You don't mean—" Hermione broke off as everything clicked into place. She let out a small yelp and covered her mouth. Ron put a hand over her shoulder as he too came to the same conclusion.

Merlin nodded somewhat sadly. "I began having visions some time at Yule — Christmas. I lived through all of my previous life and due to a duel with Dumbledore was forced to accept that I was and indeed am Merlin. In an instant, I regained all of my knowledge, memories, and power. It is due to this that I have been behaving so… oddly in recent months."

Merlin took a deep breath, watching their unreadable expression with slight fear.

"I know it must be difficult to understand reincarnation, but I always was Merlin, from the very start. I had been stripped off of my memories and power and given the name Harry Potter, but my soul was the same. I-I-I may be Merlin, but I will always be your Harry Potter. I only wish for you to understand this and treat me no different as the friend that you have always had in me."

I haven't reread this story in about a year or so but I remember doing some vague editing while I was writing. I'll post the next chapter next Friday!