All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners (BBC, JK Rowling). Takes place in Harry's first year, and ambiguously placed in the Merlin timeline.

Written on a time limit with little sleep, so have a preemptive apology?

There would be a sorcerer hiding behind a bush in the middle of the Pendragon forest. Merlin sighs, because it's just about par for the course at this point.

Arthur draws his sword, and Merlin pulls at the stream of gold that flows through him, bringing a bit to the surface, ready to counter whatever this idiot is planning on doing.

"Arthur Pendragon!" The guy intones, and Merlin rolls his eyes, because really, you'd think they'd have figured out that surprise works better than monologuing by this point.

He tunes the man out while he spouts his grievances, keeping an eye on Arthur who's edging closer to the guy in the dress, er, robe, or tunic, whatever.

He finally, finally shuts up and makes with the ball of glowy death. It soars towards Arthur, who slices it in half with his sword. And okay, so that wasn't probably the greatest idea ever, since it kind of blows up.

Merlin steps forward and clutches Arthur's hand as the world dissolves around them. They're picked off the ground and flung, and Merlin screws his eyes shut.

There's a stomach-turning wrench, like someone stuck a hook through through his belly button, and yanked, and he feels the distinct need to throw up his breakfast.

And then he's falling through thin air, and he yelps and opens his eyes on instinct. He gets a glimpse of flailing limbs and black stuff before he faceplants into the grass.

"Oi!" someone shouts uncomfortably close to his ear, and suddenly the ground beneath his stomach and legs moves. "Get off me!" the voice continues, and okay, that's not the ground moving, that's whoever he's landed on.

He somehow manages to make it to an upright position, but his head is pounding, and there's a whole lot of memories and thoughts just dumped in his head all of a sudden, and that's kind of hard to deal with when it happens without warning. "Uh," he eventually manages, and sways a little. Well, okay, a bit. Maybe kind of lot, but that's not really important, is it?

"Sorry," he chokes out, aware that there's people outside his head and that he should apologize, not because he's quite sure what happened, but because when in doubt, it's best to apologize, just in general.

There's scenes swirling past his eyes, memories of times he hasn't lived and things he hasn't done, and at some point it occurs to him that he's synching up to the timeline. He's not sure how he knows this, but he doesn't question it, either.

He finally opens his eyes, and waits the few seconds it takes for the world to settle right-side-up again. Arthur's out cold on the ground next to him, and there's a girl with bushy hair staring at him, and a red-head poking at Arthur, and, okay, yeah, that's a bad idea.

"How did you get here? It was almost like Apparating!" says another boy, and Merlin turns his head to see him, and has to wait for the world to stop spinning before he make out a skinny young boy with black hair and glasses.

"How many times?" the girl sighs. "No one can—"

"—Apparate on Hogwarts grounds," the boys moan in chorus.

"We know," red-head says.

Glasses-boy defends himself with, "I only said it was like Apparating, not that it was. But you have to admit it was, with the crack noise and all."

Merlin's happy to leave them to their arguing, because the term 'Hogwarts' is tugging at something in his brain.

"Magic," he blurts out suddenly, then reflexively glances at Arthur, who's still not moving. Hmm. That might be a problem.

The girl shoots him a look. "Duh, you came here by magic. You kind of fell out of thin air at a school for witches and wizards. Of course we'd assume you used magic!"

And that would be when Arthur makes a groaning, snuffling noise, wouldn't it? And okay, Merlin's still learning magic in Camelot, but he's got a whole different person inside his head now, so he knows exactly what so do. He lays his fingers on Arthur's temple and murmurs a word, willing his prince back to sleep.

"Right, sorry," Merlin says, immediate concern taken care of. "Look, we're not from around here, and we kind fell through the cracks in between timelines, so if you could just take us to someone who could help us get home? Please."

And completely ignoring everything he'd just said, the girl says, "You just did magic."

"Duh," he tosses her own word back at her. "Of course I did. We're at a magic school, aren't we?"

"You did wandless magic," she stresses, "and not with a standard spell. What was that you said?"

Merlin stares at this girl like she's insane, because he's starting to think she might be. "Why on earth would I use a wand?" he wants to know. She opens her mouth, and he knows that look. It's the one Gaius gets right before he lectures on obscure subjects for hours and hours. It's odd to see it on such a young face, but that doesn't stop him for hurriedly saying, "Never mind, I figured it out."

And it's not even a lie. Well, mostly not a lie. His brain is processing the knowledge and experiences slowly but surely, and he's just remembered something about wands reconnecting people to nature and the mystic in a time where technology is slowly pushing magic out of the world.

But it doesn't really matter to Merlin, or to Emrys, because he's not attuned to nature so much as he's the embodiment of nature, and he will ever be the last bastion of the mystic in the logical world. He came from magic in a time of magic, and it is his birthright, never to be lost or stolen from him.

The thought makes something suspiciously like happiness and pride bubble up, and he can feel his magic surge in response, and there's really no reason not to, so he touches a stalk next to his foot. It bursts into bloom a little violently, but he still picks it up and drops it on the girl's lap.

"I don't need a wand," he says. "Now, someone who can help?"

"Merlin's beard," the redhead breathes, and okay, he needs names, but more than that, he needs to know why these children seem to think he has a beard. He goes cross-eyed to check his chin, but nope, it's as smooth as it ever was. Then the kid asks, "Who are you?"

That's about when his new memories kick in, informing him that it would be a Bad Idea to claim to be Merlin, so he says, "Er, Will? Yeah, I'm William, and that lug is Arthur. Please don't poke him again, he's not very nice when he wakes up."

Red-head drops his hand quickly, and Merlin smiles. "And you are?"

"Hermione," the girl says, and Merlin mouths the syllables to himself, a little bit confused. "And that's Ron, and this is Harry."

"Ron, Harry, Hermione," he repeats. "Nice to meet you. Now, uh, someone who can help, please?"

"Right," Harry says, jumping up. "You'll be wanting Dumbledore, then."

"Dumbledore," Merlin repeats again, turning the name over on his tongue. It tastes familiar, but he can't quite remember why.

The others climb to their feet, and Merlin gets up, too, then nudges the still-sleeping Arthur and sighs. He really should have thought this through.

"I got it!" Hermione says, and pulls out a stick that's slightly more magical than mundane sticks. She says some words and waves her stick around in a way that makes her look ridiculous, Merlin thinks, but it gets Arthur to float, so he shrugs it off.

He pushes Arthur's head, and the prat snores and floats forwards. Merlin smiles, and pokes him in the side, adjusting his trajectory. It's far too much fun.

He follows the youngsters through stone halls that would make Camelot's masons drool, until they approach a gargoyle.

"Uh," Harry says, but Merlin's not listening.

The statue has the most intriguing spell on it. It's an animate/guardian spell, keyed to a password that rotates weekly. He pokes at the nebulous net that surrounds the creature, and the gargoyle says, "Hey! That tickles!"

"Oh, cool," Merlin breathes. "Hey, can we go in?"

"Uh, no," it says. "You think I'm here to just let random people in? Just who do you think you are?"

"Well," Merlin starts, drawing himself up, but he doesn't get to do his dramatic speech-ing.

"Wait, orders just came down from on high; go on in," it says, and leaps out of the way.

"Cheers," Merlin smiles at it, and pushes Arthur into the stairwell. It moves upwards of its own accord, and Merlin makes a note to do this to Arthur's staircase just as soon as he can, because it's so very handy.

The children are still following him like little lost ducklings, and he vaguely wonders if they don't have classes to get to, but then his gaze is caught by the man behind the desk.

"Oh, it's you," he says, memories cascading behind his eyes. He drapes himself over one of the chairs before he collapses, and Hermione does more stick-waving that somehow make Arthur drop into the other chair, head lolling.

"Indeed," Dumbledore says, twinkling. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Merlin?"

There is sudden, fierce whispering from the corner, but Merlin ignores it and says, "Yes, well, timelines, you know. I'm only here on accident this time, so it doesn't really count."

Dumbledore sighs, but he's smiling as he says, "Cheating, again? Somehow, I expect nothing less from you."

"Yes, well," Merlin repeats, but he's smiling back. "I won't remember this meeting until we meet for the first time in the right timeline, though, so I can't say I've missed you."

There was a soft cooing noise, and talons curled themselves in Merlin's hair. "Fawkes!" he exclaimed. "Hey, pretty bird, there you are. You missed me, right?"

"And what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" Dumbledore wants to know.

Merlin sighs and stops petting the bird on his head. "I kind of got us tossed through the dimensional barrier, but we fell through the timelines instead. I just need a platform and an anchor, and I think we'll be all right, though a jump start would be nice, if you wouldn't mind."

"My, my," the old man says, and then, "Lemon drop?"

"Don't mind if I do," Merlin says, picking one of the sticky candies out of the tin. "This, I will miss, even if I don't remember it. Processed sugar, yum."

"You might try the lake as a platform. And, as long as you're here..." Dumbledore says, twinkling at him as he tucks the tin away.

Merlin sighs. "You want me to walk the wards again?"

"If you'd be so kind. I'm sure young Harry and his friends would be glad to show you the routes through the castle. And perhaps you'd recharge his protection charm?"

Merlin cast an eye over the young boy in the corner. There was an aura about him, slight but potent, waiting to be called into being.

"Come here?" Merlin asks, sitting properly in his chair. Harry approaches warily, and Merlin waves his hands around the boy, watching them spark the ward. "This is powerful stuff," he says.

"Is it?" Dumbledore asks in that way that means he knows it is, and just wants confirmation.

"It's, well, it's not really anchored, but powered by, by your own heart? No, wait, that can't be right..." Merlin frowns at the boy, then snaps his fingers. "Of course! You're Harry Potter! That explains it! Here, I can just—"

Merlin loads magic on his finger, and taps the boy's heart, which is where the ward is based. He watches it flow and flicker with gold, satisfied. "There, that should hold it another five years or so."

Harry blinks at him. "What did you—I feel fantastic!"

Merlin smiles, and Harry beams back.

"Thank you," Dumbledore says quietly. "This puts my mind at ease."

"Sure." Merlin waves a negligent hand. "And now the wards, and then off home, yeah? Oh, hey, can Arthur stay here?"

"Why not take him with you?" Hermione asks, and Merlin shoots her a look, then turns thoughtful.

"It would be a learning experience, wouldn't it?" he muses. "Good idea. Hey, Arthur. Wake up, prat."

"That wouldn't be, uh, King Arthur, would it?" Hermione asks a little timidly.

"Nope, this one's still a prince," Merlin informs her, cheerfully kicking Arthur in the leg. "C'mon, wake-y, wake-y," he orders, lacing just a little magic in his voice.

Arthur groans and stirs, finally. "Come on, lazy arse," Merlin says, maniacally cheerful. "You're having a very nice dream; time to get up and explore."

"Merlin?" Arthur sighs, then sits up straight, rubbing his eyes. "This is a dream?"

"Sure," Merlin nods. "A dream. A dream about magic and the future and, uh, stuff. Come on, we gotta go cast spells now."

"Uh-huh," Arthur agrees warily. "Sure we do."

"Arthur, this is Hermione; ask her anything you wanna know, I get the feeling she knows the answer. And also Ron and Harry. Guys, this is Arthur, prince, knight, and certified clotpole, so ignore anything he says that's stupid, okay? Never let it be said my mother didn't teach me how to introduce people. Okay! Let's go!"

He ushers them all out of the office, and Arthur stares at the moving stairs, and blinks. "Dreaming?" he asks.

"Completely asleep," Merlin confirms. "Possibly with concussion."

"But—" Hermione starts, and Merlin overrides her.

"Hermione! Wanna tell Arthur about Hogwarts, here? I don't think he's heard of it."

"Really?"

Merlin smiles, and motions for Ron and Harry to join him in the front. "Hey, mates, which way to that giant front hall?"

"This way," Ron says, and they start off.

"— four founding members, working on concert—"

"Are you really Merlin?" Harry asks. "Like, Merlin Merlin?"

"Yup," he says, examining the portraits as they go past. "And you're really Harry Potter."

The boy blushes and looks down, mumbling something.

"—muggle-born and purebloods were both offered admission, until Salazar—"

"You know," Merlin says conversationally, "when I first showed up in Camelot, I had no magic training, and was just stumbling my way around, and there was this great bloody dragon that kept on about my destiny and all this stuff I was supposed to do, and I was just kind of overwhelmed, you know?"

Harry stares up at him, blinking big green eyes. "Really?"

"Really. I felt like there were all these expectations on me, and I had no idea why or what I was gonna do. But, you know, somehow I muddled through, and well. Look at me now."

Ron says, "No way the great Merlin ever didn't know what he was doing!"

"Why not?" Merlin wants to know. "You don't think Merlin is a wizard, and a guy just like every other?"

"It...makes sense," Harry says slowly. "Merlin still would have had to eat and drink and stuff, so it makes sense that he was once a kid like us."

"Exactly," Merlin says. "I just decided not to grow up, is all."

They find the crest on the floor of the Great Hall, and Merlin flashes them a grin. "Stay here a sec?"

"Hey, if this is a dream, can I be magic?" Arthur asks. "I want to know what about magic corrupts, exactly."

Merlin stares him for a second, and then says, "Let me do this one, and you can help on the next one?"

"Sure," Arthur says. "I'll observe."

So Merlin steps onto the crest, walking it clockwise, and focusing. He does the circuit three times, laying the circle, before stepping to the inner part where all four sections converge, and just lets his magic flow.

It's like he's a giant magic battery, and he lets the wards plug into him and recharge. It's an insanely complicated spell, actually, and draws a little trickle of power from the inhabitants of the castle, using the ambient energy as power. But it had a tendency to discharge faster than it recharges. There's a huge energy reservoir somewhere in the building, built into the spell. It wasn't anywhere near empty, but it wasn't full either.

He let it pull and pull, breaking away after a while. He hasn't got near to refilling the whole thing, but he does need some magic to get home on, still.

He steps out of the circle, and his legs go a bit wobbly for a second. "Oh," he says, and sits down.

"You okay?" Arthur asks, poking Merlin in the side of the head.

Merlin swats at his hand half-heartedly. "Yeah, yeah, fine, I just misjudged that last bit." He staggers back to his feet, and turns to Harry. "Can you get us outside from here?"

Harry and Ron both nod, and start leading the way, while Hermione pelts Merlin with questions about what he's just done.

"Just take me to the lake?" he asks, leaning a little bit on Arthur and ignoring the curious girl as best he knew how.

It's not a long walk, which Merlin is thankful for. Hermione doesn't shut up the whole time, and he just lets her voice wash over him. It's kind of soothing, is a backwards kind of way.

And then they're at the lake's edge. Merlin tugs Arthur right up to the edge, and then turns around.

"Thanks, guys," he says. "Harry, remember, trust your friends and your instincts; you'll be fine, trust me. Right? And tell Dumbledore I said bye, okay? Okay."

"Had a nice dream?" Merlin asks Arthur.

"I suppose. I thought you said I could do magic?" Arthur looks adorably put out about this.

"It's not magic that corrupts, it's power. Magic is only distilled power, is all. And you're gonna do magic right now, okay? Stare at the lake. You see us? Imagine that's actually us in Camelot. You see the scene, the forest we were in? See the leaves? Now, keep your eyes on it..."

He carefully touches Arthur's temple with two fingers, and draws away his hand and Arthur's memories of the past hour or so and releases them to the wind, and then topples them both into the lake. He bids his own new memories a fond farewell, though he knows he'll grow into them eventually.

The feeling that someone's grabbed his spinal chord and yanked is back, and he swallows bile, feeling his head swim round, like water down a drain.

They thump down in the same forest they'd left from, minus one sorcerer.

Was there a sorcerer? He thinks there was. Maybe...?

"Urk," Arthur says, and "What happened?"

"Do you know," Merlin says, staring around at the trees. "I haven't any idea."

End